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And then everyone sat and waited for the kettle 
to boil {page ) 


KITTY LOVE 


BY 

ANNA ALICE CHAPIN 

Author of 
Humpty Dumpty^'^ 

“ The Noio-A-Days Fairy Book,” etc. 


ILLUSTRATED 




NEW YORK 

DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY 

1912 


\ 



Copyright, 1912 

Bt DODD. MEAD & COMPANY 
Published, September^ 1912 



CcI.A320406 
tco / 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I One July Afternoon 1 

II The Teakettle and the Fire Fairies . 19 

III Confidences 45 

IV Adventures of King Cole .... 65 

V The Picnic — and Florrie .... 87 

VI An Impossible Adventure 105 

VII The Story of the Magic Lotus Bulb . 125 

VIII Red Indians . . 141 

IX Florrie’s Sickness 159 

X Florrie and the Fairy 175 

XI The Madness of Kitty 187 

XII The Madness of Giuseppe .... 201 

XIII The Little Munchausen . . . .215 

XIV The Fable of the Malicious Mouse . 231 

XV Robbers ! 249 

XVI The Old Couple at the Grange . . 263 

XVII Kitty Does It! 277 




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ILLUSTRATIONS 


And then everyone sat and 
waited for the kettle to 
boil . . (p. 

Frontispiece ^ 

‘‘Oh, how do you do?” ex- 
claimed Kitty shyly 

Facing page 

94.1^ 

“Florrie, — Oh, Florrie!” . 


166^ 

“What’s his name?” per- 
sisted Kitty, stooping to 
pat the dog 

• 

204 v' 



KITTY LOVE 


ONE JULY AFTERNOON 


We loved the game, the hearth-stone flame, 
The little beasts and butterflies. 

And knew that all was ours to claim, — 

The whole world and the skies. 

Oh, golden ways of summer days. 

When songs were sung and stories told, — 
Aind every rainbow’s gleaming rays 
Led to a Pot of Gold ! 

The Children's Pilgrimage. 


CHAPTER I 


ONE JULY AFTERNOON 

“I LOVE things so!” said Kitty Love, for the 
hundredth time. And of course when she said 
it, both Tad and Midge began to laugh at her, 
and her big brother Chris — (he was a whole 
year older) — said, “Wait till you get to Deci- 
mals and Fractions. Maybe you’ll love them 
too!” 

“Courth the will!” cried Taddie shrilly. 

“Kitty loveth everything,” lisped little 
Midge, whose real name was Margaret, of 
course, though everyone but Mamma had for- 
gotten the fact long ago. 

Kitty herself smiled around at them, not a 
bit bothered by being made fun of. 

1 


KITTY LOVE 


“Yes!” she said, eheerfully matter-of-fact, 
“I really think I do love everything!” 

“Well, that’s a silly no-account girl’s idea!” 
declared Christopher, from the scornful heights 
of eleven. 

“Race you to the boathouse!” retorted Kitty 
promptly. And they set off, followed by the 
two smaller children, shrieking encouragement 
and falling over their own feet in their excite- 
ment. 

“There!” gasped Kitty triumphantly, as she 
beat her brother by a full yard. 

“Good for you!” he said generously. 
“Kitty, you can run — even if you are nothing 
hut a girir 

Kitty beamed upon him, and peace reigned. 
It was her one way of revenging herself, and a 
harmless way, — ^take it all in all. 

When she and Chris did not agree about 
something, she made him race with her, and 


KITTY LOVE 


nearly always beat him. Being human, even if 
she was sweet-natured, she liked to win, and 
Chris was too good a sport to mind, so it was 
really a very pleasant arrangement all around. 

I wish I could carry you to Merry Vale, that 
lovely, warm, good-smelling afternoon, and let 
you play with the four Love children, — ^the 
“Cupids,” their Uncle Mark called them jok- 
ingly, because that’s what the young “loves” are 
called in books, — but as I can’t quite do that, I 
shall have to tell you about them instead. 
Christopher was the oldest, and eleven. He 
was a fair, sturdy, freckled lad, hot-tempered 
and kind-hearted. And, though he was not 
particularly neat, nor very clever, nor abso- 
lutely good and obedient all the time, he was a 
dear boy, just the same, and people were very 
fond of him. 

Kitty was next, — not quite ten, and such a 
merry, happy, loving little person! Uncle 
3 


KITTY LOVE 


Mark always said that there was something 
about the name Love that had done it, but what- 
ever the reason was, she simply bubbled over 
with tenderness and affection and sweetness. 
I don’t mean that she was perfect. She had 
quite a little temper of her own, and she was a 
bit lazy, and she liked to doze and day-dream 
in the hay-loft or under the willows better than 
picking up her clothes off the nursery floor, or 
carrying baskets of soup and sugar and tea to 
the poor people of the neighbourhood ! But she 
did pick up her clothes — because she was too 
fond of Nurse to let her do it all by herself, and 
she did carry the poor peoples’ baskets be- 
cause it pleased Mamma, and of course she 
adored Mamma. 

Kitty was not really pretty, but she had 
lovely blue-grey eyes very soft and bright and 
wide-open, and a quantity of light brown hair, 
fine and silky, which simply would not stay 


KITTY LOVE 


tidy! Now do you think you can see Kitty? 
If you really knew her, you and she would love 
each other, you may be sure ! 

And so we come to Tad and Midge! They 
were twins, you see, so when you describe one 
you really describe the other. They were only 
five years old apiece, and they were both fat 
and bunchy and round, and like really truly 
Cupids, and they had very fair hair that curled 
a little and stood up on end all over their heads, 
and they were very busy and very jolly, and 
very much amused by everything in the world ! 

Uncle Mark said that they were so short that 
their names had to be extra short too, and so 
they were ! Midge was short for Madge, and 
Madge was short for Margaret. And Tad 
was short for — ^what do you think? — The Tad- 
pole ! And both were short for Theodore. Of 
course Mother stopped at “Madge,” but she 
said “Tad” like everyone else. You simply 
5 


KITTY LOVE 


couldn’t say “Theodore” to anything as small 
as Tad! Except of course when you were 
christening him, when people do the most dread- 
ful things in the way of names anyway! 

And now for Merry Vale! It was a dear, 
roomy, comfortable, old farmhouse, — down in 
a valley, as you might guess from the name — 
with an apple orchard and a grape arbour, and 
a rather messy little garden where the children 
all had plots to take care of which they planted 
and cared for themselves — or didn’t, just as it 
happened. 

Mr. Love was a writer and not very strong, 
and he had been ordered to the country to 
live when Kitty and Chris were only six and 
seven, and the twins just babies. So it had 
been that they had spent four long years there 
taking lessons from their father and mother — 
and from Uncle Mark when he was with them, 
— and the rest of the time running wild over 
6 


KITTY LOVE 


the rambling old place. They had been very 
happy, in spite of one thing which sometimes 
troubled them in a dim sort of way, without 
their putting it into words to themselves. 

Don’t you know when you wake in the morn- 
ing of the day you are going to the dentist’s, 
and can’t remember immediately what it is that 
makes you so sad and scared? It’s a sort of 
black cloud hanging over you, a feeling that 
something horrid is happening or going to hap- 
pen, but for a few moments you just lie and 
scowl and wonder what’s wrong. Till sud- 
denly — ^presto! you remember, and dig down 
into the bed-clothes again and try to pretend 
to think about going to sleep again! Well, 
it was something of that feeling, only very, 
very faint and vague and indistinct, which the 
four Love children had now and then, and I 
must tell you, before we go on, what the feel- 
ing came from. 




KITTY LOVE 


It wasn’t only Papa’s health which had 
brought him to the country. Kitty and Chris 
could just barely remember something else. 
Papa had been in business with Mamma’s 
father, and some dreadful thing had happened 
— ^the children did not know what. But there 
had been a quarrel, and their father had left 
Mamma’s father for ever, and now he — ^their 
grandfather — ^was never spoken of in the house- 
hold. The children often wondered what 
“grand-people” were like, for their Papa’s 
parents had died many years before and Mam- 
ma’s father and mother had never even seen 
their grandchildren. What the quarrel was 
the four children didn’t know. They puzzled 
about it, and as I say they always felt the 
shadow of it, for Papa and Mamma were often 
grave, and seemed to be thinking of something 
that was very, very mournful. It was sadly 
mixed up, and Kitty had been determined for 


KITTY LOVE 


ages to ask her mother about it. She confided 
this intention to Christopher that very after- 
noon after the race to the boathouse, while 
they were resting on the landing platform, 
swinging their legs over the water. 

You must understand, before we go any fur- 
ther, that Merry Vale was on the edge of a de- 
lightful little river that moved along through 
the Valley. It was not a very wide river but it 
was deep enough for boating, and just at 
Merry Vale it widened out into a sort of little 
bay or pond, and that was where the boathouse 
was, and a rowboat and canoe, and where, one 
of those fine days when they got rich, they were 
to have a motor boat! 

“Chris,” Kitty said seriously, “Mamma got 
a letter this morning, and it made her cry!” 

“Made Mummy cry!” Chris was hotly in- 
dignant. “I’d like to see whoever it was that 
wrote it — ^that’s all!” 


9 


KITTY LOVE 

And he doubled up a sunburned fist and 
looked fierce. 

“Hush!” remonstrated Kitty. “It — it was 
— Oh, Chrissy, I think it was from our Grand- 
mother!” This was in a tone of awe, for as I 
have told you their mother’s parents were never 
spoken of in Merry Vale. 

Christopher’s jaw dropped. 

“No!” he exclaimed, greatly impressed. 
“How do you know that. Kit?” 

The twins approached at this point and be- 
gan to tell with excited shrieks of a turtle, and 
a frog with six legs which they’d just seen 
down the stream. 

“Don’t be sillies, you two,” said Christo- 
pher impatiently. “ They couldn’t have six 
legs. Frogs don’t!” 

“But they did have thikth!” — howled 
Midge. 

“Go hack and count them again!” suggested 
10 


KITTY LOVE 

Kitty tactfully, and got rid of them for another 
five minutes. 

“Well, go on,” said Chris, taking a handful 
of pebbles from a pocket in his corduroy knick- 
erbockers, and beginning to shy them over the 
pond water. 

“Well!” said Kitty, feeling important and 
excited — “Mamma took up the letter at break- 
fast — you were late so you didn’t see! — and 
she gave a little queer sound, as though she 
were going to cry — only she didn’t, you 
know — ” 

“Had she tears running down?” asked Chris, 
very solemnly. 

“No; I tell you she didn’t cry at all, only 
was going to. I know what I mean anyway, 
if you don’t — and she said to Papa — ‘Oh, Jack, 
— ^it’s from Mother!’ And he said, ‘My poor 
Katherine, I hope, oh, — I do hope it is a kind 
letter!’ And he looked so anxious and so sad 
11 


KITTY LOVE 


and yet so sort of excited too. You do know 
what I mean, don’t you, Chris?” 

“I don’t know, whether I know or not!” 
said Chris. “But go on anyhow. Did Mother 
open the letter right there before you?” 

Kitty looked suddenly abashed, as she shook 
her head. 

“N — No,” she said, meekly. She said, ‘Run 
away, darling, and ask Becky for some hot 
muffins before Chris comes down.’ And I 
went out.” 

“Pooh!” said her brother disdainfully. “Is 
that all? I thought you’d got something really 
exciting to tell.” 

“Well, so I had,” cried Kitty, with some 
heat. “I think it’s most awfully exciting — 
Mamma getting a letter from Grandmother! 
I’m sure it’s not happened before in years and 
years and years!’’ 

“ ‘Years’ is two years anyhow,” said Chris, 
12 


KITTY LOVE 


provokingly practical. “So ‘years, and years, 
and years’ would be six years, and it can’t be as 
long as that.” 

“You’re Aomd./” exclaimed Kitty, flushing 
violently as she always did when she was get- 
ting ready to cry. “I thought you’d he as ex- 
cited as I was, and — ” 

“Come on, Kitsy!” said Chris coaxingly. 
“Let’s see which can hit that floating stick first. 
Here’s some pebbles!” 

Kitty seized some pebbles and threw them 
with a good aim but a bit short. Sport was 
breathless for about twenty minutes. The 
floating stick had drifted out of reach by that 
time, but both children felt better. 

“Oh, I love throwing stones!” sighed Kitty. 

“And I love tea and cake!” said Chris, get- 
ting up and stretching himself. “Come along. 
Kit ! it’s tea-time, and Mummy’s going to have 
it on the lawn to-day. I heard her tell Becky 
13 


KITTY LOVE 

to take the table down near the lilac bushes.” 

“Oh, I love tea on the lawn,” said Kitty, 
springing to her feet. “And I love raspber- 
ries and cake! And I love — ” 

“Oh, you love everything!” said Chris in an 
indulgent tone. 

And they scampered off toward the house. 

“But,” said Kitty, pausing a little just as 
they came in sight of the pretty table, all silver 
and white among the cool green shadows, 
“I’m going to ask Mamma to tell me all about 
it one of these days!” 

“Would you — really,” asked Chris doubt- 
fully. Boy-like, such daring in a delicate and 
perhaps emotional matter would have been 
quite beyond him. He looked at Kitty with 
a grudging respect. 

“I would!” she declared stoutly. “You’re 
eleven — and I’m ten — ” 

“You’re not,” said her brother. 

14 


KITTY LOVE 


Poor Kitty gave a sigh of exasperation at 
such unkind and masculine exactness. 

“I’m nine and nine months and two weeks,” 
she said, humbly. “It’s time we knew the 
Family Secrets!” 

Before Chris could make up his mind 
whether to be impressed or to make fun of her, 
the twins were upon them from behind. 

“The frog hadn’t thikth legth!” shrieked 
Tad. 

“Of course not,” said Chris. 

“Did you count them, honey?” said Kitty 
kindly. 

“Yeth,” said Midge proudly. “We 
counted them theven timeth.” 

“And they had four legs, didn’t they?” said 
Kitty, smiling down at their pink cheeks. 

“No,” cried Tad excitedly. 

“No,” echoed Midge — and she added — 
“They had thirthteen legth.” 

15 


' KITTY LOVE 

“Of all the little liars!” said Chris, stop- 
ping short. 

“You mustn’t say that,” Kitty quickly re- 
proved him. “It’s just their imaginations !” 

A clear voice called to them across the lawn. 

“Tea and cake, children!” 

“Cake! Hurrah!” shouted Chris, and all four 
of them raced through the golden light of late 
afternoon to the table where their mother was 
waiting for them. 


16 


THE TEAKETTLE AND THE FIRE 
FAIRIES 


‘‘Gutter, sputter, 

Leap and flutter!” — 

This is all I say. 

There’s a song 
Both sweet and strong 
That I sang one day; 

Now I only hiss and chatter, 

Chuckling over every matter, 

In a mocking way: 

“Watch us, catch us. 

Try to match us 1” — 

All the flamelets say ! 

Hear me, fear me, 

Gather near me. 

Hark to what I say! 

Faint and low 
They come and go. 

My dreams of yesterday. 

Once upon a star in splendour 
Sang we music wild and tender, — 

Oh, so far away ! 

“Gleam and glitter. 

Fate is bitter ! — ” 

Is all we sing to-day. 

The Voice of the Fire, 


CHAPTER II 


THE TEAKETTLE AND THE FIRE FAIRIES 

Mrs. Love was a very small woman, with 
a delicate pale face that often looked a little 
sad, and smooth, fair hair. She was so frail 
and sweet and gentle that everyone, even her 
children, longed to shield her from every 
trouble. Kitty especially had a perfect pas- 
sion of protecting tenderness for her mother. 
Now, as Mrs. Love sat there in a cool grey 
linen dress, in the shadow of the giant lilac 
shrubs, she looked altogether too young and 
pretty to be the mother of the four strong and 
high-spirited young creatures crowding around 
her. Kitty was rather like her, only Kitty’s 
skin was tanned several shades darker, and her 
19 


KITTY LOVE 


hair, too, was not quite so fair — 'and not nearly 
so neat! Kitty’s blue gown was tumbled and 
torn, and there were bramble scratches on her 
arms, and a good deal of mud and grass stains 
about her generally. But, dirt and all, she 
rushed into her mother’s arms and nearly 
smothered her in a loving hug before she be- 
gan work on the tea-table. 

“A good day, darling?” asked Mrs. Love, 
smoothing Kitty’s hair with one hand and hold- 
ing out the other to the twins who fell upon it 
both together, with incoherent screams about 
frogs, swimming, berries and cake. 

Christopher was already sitting at the table, 
eyeing a pile of little brown cakes with a 
hungry look, but too polite to begin till he was 
told to. 

“A lovely day I” Kitty answered, with a rap- 
turous snuggle closer to her mother’s shoulder, 
—“I love July!” 


20 


KITTY LOVE 


Mrs. Love smiled. 

“You do love so many things, little girl!” 
she said, patting the brown arm with its bram- 
ble-scratches. “July — and fairy-stories — ^^and 
Becky’s ginger cakes (there are some to-day, 
you see!) and kittens, and — ” 

“And skipping stones, and racing,” put in 
Chris, “and beating people — ” 

Kitty reddened. 

“Beating people?” Mrs. Love’s tone was 
slightly shocked. 

“At games, I mean,” went on her son. 
“And she loves raspberries.” 

“And tearing her frock !” said Mamma, put- 
ting a finger through a particularly large rent. 
“And, she loves^” 

“Your cried Kitty, throwing her arms 
around her neck. 

After which they all settled themselves down 
for afternoon tea. 


21 


KITTY LOVE 


The children thought it the very nicest meal 
there ever was — afternoon tea at Merry Vale. 
Of course they didn’t have real tea themselves, 
but Mamma did, and sometimes Papa too, 
and part of the fun was watching her make it. 
First the little lamp under the copper kettle 
had to be examined to see if there was enough 
alcohol in it, and then it was lighted, and a sort 
of curved screen set about it to keep the wind 
away from the flame. And then when the 
water began to get hot a wee steaming drop 
was poured into the teapot and then out again, 
and then the tea caddy that had belonged to 
Mother’s great-grandmother was opened and 
the tea was measured out carefully. And then 
everyone sat and waited for the kettle to boil, 
and held their breath as though that would 
help it along faster! 

And first the kettle would give a little soft, 
whispering noise like a kitten, and then a sort 


KITTY LOVE 


of queer aromatic rather nice smell would come 
from the alcohol flame. (You only get that 
smell at afternoon tea time, or when you are 
sick and they heat things for you in the middle 
of the night.) And then the kettle would 
purr louder, and begin to sing, first very softly 
and then very loud — and then — all of a sud- 
den, the singing would change to a thick, low 
sort of chuckling, and a great gush of white 
steam would rush out of the spout, and — the 
kettle would be boiling and ready for tea. 

And then what a delicious fragrance from 
the brown brew as it steeped in the china pot ! 
And how good it looked in Mamma’s pretty 
cup, and how good it tasted poured (by the 
teaspoonful only) into their own hot, sweet 
cambric tea! And how pleasantly it blended 
with buttered toast, and tea-cake, and jam, and 
the clotted cream that no one in America but 
Becky could prepare ! 


KITTY LOVE 


To-day the kettle was lazy — even the kettle 
had a right to be, on an afternoon like that! 
And from the first it dawdled along taking 
twice as long as usual to even begin its prelimi- 
nary purr. 

But at last came a little soft sound: it had 
started! 

“Why does it make such a funny, pretty 
noise when it’s beginning to boil?” asked Kitty, 
swinging one leg idly, while she sat on the 
other one. 

Now some mothers would have explained 
the scientific reasons, and talked about temper- 
ature, and combustion and things like that, 
which one has to learn sometime, though surely 
not in July ! But Mrs. Love was not that sort 
of a mother at all. She promptly answered, 
with a pretty twinkle in her blue-grey eyes : 

“Dear me! Did I never tell you about the 
Fire Fairies? And how their song was taken 
24 


KITTY LOVE 


away from them, except when they — Well, 
I have been neglecting my duties and no mis- 
take, if I never told you about them!” 

And all four children gave four little wrig- 
gles of satisfaction, for they knew that they 
were going to have an unexpected fairy story! 
And they had learned by experience that Mam- 
ma’s fairy tales, told in her own, especial way, 
were nicer than any others in the world. 
They were obliged to admit that, just as stories, 
they were not so very wonderful, but Mamma 
had a way of making things seem real, and 
thrilling, and right! 

Ah! such a happy hour — with the shadows 
long and dark across the lawn, and a sort of 
light breath of coolness coming up now and 
again as the hot July sun went down. And 
birds, and scarlet geraniums in little round 
bright beds; and such a wonderful, sweet scent 
of grass which had just been cut by Braxton 
25 


KITTY LOVE 


that very afternoon! You know there are 
hours when you are so happy you don’t want 
the time to pass at all — hours that you remem- 
ber for ever and ever so long afterward and 
that always stay perfect even when, later, 
things go wrong. This July afternoon was 
one of those good hours for the four chil- 
dren. 

And this is the story of the Fire Fairies 
and the Teakettle, which Mrs. Love told 
them that day. Even the Tadpole and Midge 
listened attentively — a real compliment to any 
story, for they hated sitting still at all — except 
when, as Nurse Ann said, they were “plotting 
something!” 

“Once upon a time,” said Mamma, “there 
was a very vain proud stuck up branch of the 
Fairy family called the Fire Fairies. They 
lived in a volcano in Mars, and they dressed 
in red-hot coals, and rubies, and some of the 
26 


KITTY LOVE 


brightest of the clouds that are woven every 
mid-summer evening at sunset. Their eyes 
were brighter than stars, and redder than 
rubies, and their wings were nothing but pure 
flame. They were, as you can imagine, ex- 
ceedingly gorgeous creatures.” 

“Better than dragonflies?” demanded the 
Tadpole. 

“Yes.” 

“And fireflies?” persisted Midge. 

“Oh, much!” 

“They must have been splendid,” declared 
Kitty with rapture, for she was not too old to 
adore fairy stories, and even Chris liked them, 
though he spoke scornfully about fairies be- 
tween times. 

“They were, as I have said, very conceited,” 
went on Mrs. Love. “They were not only 
proud of their personal appearance, and their 
power to make people afraid of them, and of 
27 


KITTY LOVE 


a number of things of that sort, but they were 
exceedingly proud of their singing. 

“You know that mostly all fairies are musi- 
cal: The goblins sing and play queer little 
instruments; the ordinary elves make a spe- 
cialty of dance-music; the water folk play on 
harps and reeds ; and the gnomes have a really 
wonderful sense of rhythm and tune. But the 
Fire Fairies were the most musical of all. 
They had beautiful voices, and they could 
also play on any magical instrument, from a 
jew’s-harp to an organ.” 

“Do fairies play jew’s-harps?” demanded 
Chris, with interest. 

“Or organs?” added Kitty eagerly. 

Mrs. Love laughed a little. 

“Magical ones!” she said. “I’m sure that 
there must be magical harps, and organs! 
Anyway, the Fire Fairies could play on any 
kind of instrument, and sing better than the 
28 


KITTY LOVE 


birds themselves. Some of the more advanced 
of them even composed music, I have 
heard.” 

“Music,” cried Kitty with an inspiration — 
“Music for the other fairies to sing!” 

“Not at all!” said Mamma. “They were far 
too greedy and selfish to help other people. 
I’m sure they would never let any other fairies 
use their music. No, they kept it locked up in 
a Lost Star that was floating around close to 
Mars.” 

“What’s a lost star?” Chris was anxious to 
know. 

“A star that has gone out, and fallen, and 
then has been fetched back to the sky by the 
fairies for all sorts of uses: to play with, and to 
keep things in, and sometimes to ride on 
when going on stormy journeys. 

“Well, as I was saying, the Fire Fairies kept 
their music locked up in one of these old stars.” 

29 


KITTY LOVE 


“What sort of a lock was it?” Chris simply 
had to interrupt to ask. 

Mamma considered this and bent over to 
listen to the teakettle at the same time. 

“Let me see,” she said, “I think it must have 
been a — holt of lightning!" And she looked 
very mischievous over her little pun. “Of 
course,” she added, “they may have used bars 
of sunlight, on strings of little stars, besides, 
or a silver hey made out of moonshine, or a 
number of other very serviceable fastenings; 
but I think that this particular star was made 
fast with a thunder holt! 

“As you all know, the Fairy Kingdom is so 
large that it has to have many rulers : one for 
the heavens, one for the sea, one for the lakes 
and streams and all inland waters, one for the 
world under-ground, and great numbers scat- 
tered over the surface of the earth, from the 
Goblin Marsh to Fairyland; from Troll Town 
30 


KITTY LOVE 


to the Country of Giants, and from the Flower 
Kingdom to the Sea of Glass and the Wonder- 
ful Mountains. And even all these rulers have 
under-rulers !” 

“Like sub-lieutenants?” suggested Chris, 
who dreamed of West Point. 

“Yes, like sub-lieutenants; and like the 
mayors of cities, all working under the Gov- 
ernor of the State. For instance, the Fire 
World, which, as I’ve told you, was the planet 
Mars — ” 

“Was!” repeated Kitty quickly; “you say 
is about all the other fairy stories. Mamma; I 
thought you were pretending that it was all 
real.” 

“So I am, that is why I say 'was/ It’s a 
point of the story! 

“Mars was one of the most brilliant of all 
the fairy kingdoms in those days. The palaces 
were built of rubies and fire opals and garnets 
31 


KITTY LOVE 

and amber and carbuncles, and all the gems 
that reflect the colours of flame ; and there was 
a lake of vivid fire in the middle of the kingdom 
where the Fire Fairies went bathing when their 
wings got dull from too much use. 

“Now nearly everyone was afraid of the Fire 
Fairies, hut there was one person who wasn’t. 
At least, I am not sure that one should call her 
a person; she was a Witch! A very wise, 
cruel, strong, clever, mock-and-make-fun-of- 
you, nasty, wonderful Witch. And her name 
was Coga, because that comes from a Latin 
word that means wise. Fairies’ names are 
often Latin,” she added hastily, fairly sure of a 
question. “Even the word ‘fairy’ comes from 
‘fatum,’ which is Latin. 

“Coga was very much down on the Fire 
Fairies, and as she lived quite near them she 
found many ways of making herself unpleas- 
ant. She lived in one wing of the House of 


KITTY LOVE 


the Sky, where the old Cobweb Lady keeps 
her brooms — and that is quite close to Mars, 
as anyone knows. She used to set out big 
pails and fill them with rain water and snow 
and empty them into the Fairies’ Lake of Fire 
so it would burn low and be half out in the 
morning. I think that the reason why she 
hated them so much was because when she had 
her birthday party every year the Fire Fairies 
never would take the trouble to come, being 
too stuck up. Instead they just sent her baskets 
of fire coals as presents, and the coals burnt 
holes in her clouds, as the fairies knew they 
would. And so she carried over pails of water 
and splashed it over their lake to get even with 
them! 

“Coga had a daughter — a, huge, ugly, wicked 
creature, called Elephantina because she looked 
so like an elephant. Her mother, however, 
considered her very beautiful — ^mothers do. 


KITTY LOVE 


you know, no matter how ugly they may be!” 
(And Mamma cast a severe look over her four 
good-looking children.) “Well, Elephantina, 
in the course of time became engaged to be 
married, and to a gentleman of some impor- 
tance in the Sky, — no less a person in fact 
than the Man in the Moon! Of com’se it was 
a great match for a Witch’s daughter — even 
such an unusual witch as Coga — and she was 
charmed about it. The only difficulty was that 
the bridegroom-to-be had never yet seen Ele- 
phantina, and both mother and daughter were 
afraid that if he did he might not want to 
marry her after all.” 

“I thought that her mother thought her 
beautiful, anyway,” said Chris, who was noth- 
ing if not inquisitive. 

*^She thought her beautiful,” explained Mrs. 
Love patiently, “but she knew that tastes dif- 
fer. The Man in the Moon might not happen 
34 


KITTY LOVE 

to like her. But she did her best to make the 
wedding a very grand one indeed. She sent 
down to earth to get a million tons of gold and 
jewels, and ten million bushels of lovely flowers, 
all to help make Elephantina the Lady of the 
Moon. And for the wedding she engaged ten 
thousand Sylphs and Wind Maidens to dance, 
and twenty thousand musicians and — but have 
you guessed what was lacking to her fine 
plans?” 

“The Fire Fairies!” said all four children 
together. 

“Exactly! She wanted three things from 
the Fire Fairies. First and foremost; Mars 
made a splendid stopping-place between the 
Moon and the Sky House, and it would be a 
good spot for the Man in the Moon to rest 
when he came to be married to Elephantina. 
Second: the wedding present that would please 
him most would be a few thousand pails of red 
35 


KITTY LOVE 


fire, for even in those days it was bitter cold 
in the moon, and the Man felt it. And last — 
she needed the Fire Fairies’ wonderful music 
for the wedding festivities. 

“So she ran across to Mars to talk things 
over, hut the Fire Fairies came to the edge of 
their planet and threw stones — I mean stars — 
at her, and made faces, and she was so angry 
that she called them all wicked red-faced things 
(which they were) — and went home again sput- 
tering with rage. Well, she thought about it, 
and jumped up and down about it, till she 
couldn’t rest nor eat, nor attend to Elephant- 
ina’s clothes unless she could get even with 
the Fire Fairies. And after she had jumped 
up and down for a whole night — ” 

“Wathn’t she tired?” asked Midge sym- 
pathetically. 

“Witches are never tired. — She had a great 
idea ! She decided to appeal to the ruler of her 
36 


KITTY LOVE 


part of the Sky, who was a Giant, and a rel- 
ative of the one Jack climbed up the bean stalk 
to kill, you remember? She told the Giant how 
horrid the Fire Fairies were, and the Giant, 
who liked Coga, ordered the Head Fire Fair- 
ies to come before him to be punished. And 
what do you suppose the punishment was to 
be?” 

“I can’t guess,” said Kitty in a rapt 
way. 

“The kettle’s boiling!” cried out Christopher, 
whom no amount of fairy talk could distract 
from his food. 

“How horrid of it!” said Kitty, while Mam- 
ma poured the water into the teapot. 

“Now, I quite thought,” Mrs. Love said, 
apologetically, “that my story and the kettle 
would come to the climax together! I must 
have been very slow or the kettle in a very 
great hurry ! W ell, anyway, dears, the punish- 
37 


KITTY LOVE 

merit for the malicious Fire Fairies, for conceit 
and bad-temper and disobliging ways, was to 
have their music taken away from them — all 
their beautiful, remarkable, unique and partic- 
ular music — forever and ever and ever! The 
Giant — ^who was two miles high and had for 
eyes two comets that whirled about and crackled 
as you looked at them — thundered the sentence 
at the Fire Fairies till they were so horrified 
that they nearly died — I mean went out. ‘Such 
disagreeable creatures you are!’ roared the 
giant, ‘and such snippity-snappety cockscombs 
you are! And such miserable, useless, unkind, 
unfriendly, bad-tempered villains you are every 
way — that you’ll have to go silent the remain- 
der of your days.’ 

“ ‘But, Sir Giant,’ cried the Fire Fairies in 
chorus, “the world can’t get on without our 
music!’ 

“ ‘It’ll have to try!’ said the Giant cruelly, 
38 


KITTY LOVE 


‘Now get along home with you! I’ll send a 
boy for the music this evening 1’ 

“And he did! And so there, if you please, 
were the Fire Fairies robbed of their chief 
treasure, and not able to sing a single song, 
though they had been such very accomplished 
musicians to begin with. And then — such a 
funny thing happened — !” 

Now Mamma was pouring out the fragrant 
and smoking tea, and telling the story at the 
same time. 

“Now when the Man from the Moon arrived 
to marry Elephantina, he brought with him his 
maiden aunt, an old lady called Gobbilova — ” 
“Mamma!” interrupted Kitty reprovingly, 
“you made up her name this minute.” 

“Well, and isn’t it a beautiful name? The 
Man in the Moon and his aunt Gobbilova rode 
on the Cow That Had Once Jumped Over The 
Moon. Like nearly all old ladies, she was 
39 


KITTY LOVE 


afraid of cows, but her brother the Man in the 
Moon was masterful, and made her do it just 
the same! Now as soon as Gobbilova arrived 
in the House of the Sky, she asked for a cup of 
tea — as almost any old maid will, at the end of 
a journey, you know! So the Witch got out 
her best teakettle which had been double- 
plated with extra bright silver moonlight — and 
she prepared to make tea. 

“When suddenly the kettle spoke up and 
said, ‘If you please, ma’am, where is the fire? 
I’ll not boil for anyone without a good fire, 
and there’s an end to it!’ 

‘“Mercy me!’ said Coga, ‘you don’t think 
I’ll send for one of those mischievous Fire 
Fairies, do you?’ 

“ ‘I’m afraid you’ll have to, ma’am,’ declared 
the kettle, very politely, ‘if you want me to 
boil!’ 

“Well, the Witch Coga scowled and 
40 


KITTY LOVE 


hemmed and hawed over it, and she finally 
asked Gobbilova if she wouldn’t just as leave 
have a glass of milk. 

“ ‘I want my tea!’ said Gobbilova, glaring. 
‘As for milk, I’m tired of it — ^what with the 
Milky Way, and that everlasting, jumping 
Cow! — ^And it does seem to me that it is bad 
enough to travel seventy millions of leagues 
through space to see yom* favourite grandson 
marry a young Ogress, without being grudged 
a drop of tea — ^that it does !’ 

“So the Witch had to send for a Fire Fairy 
after all! — ‘I only want one, mind!’ she ex- 
plained to the messenger; ‘but be sure to bring 
a good bright one!’ 

“Back came the messenger with a Fairy — 
all gleaming dress, red hot eyes, and flaming 
wings. 

“‘Oh! Mother Witch!’ snapped he. ‘You 
couldn’t get on without us after all!’ 

4)1 


KITTY LOVE 


“ ‘None of your impudence!’ said the Witch 
sourly. ‘Get to work, and boil that kettle of 
mine!’ 

“ ‘Not so fast, mother! — I’ll do it on one con- 
dition! — That you give me back my Song! — 
Never mind about the other Fairies’ music, just 
restore me my own, little, particular Song!’ 

“And — ^if you will believe it — the Witch gave 
it back to him, and he sang it under his breath 
while he boiled the kettle for Gobbilova’s tea 
in the House of the Sky. — ^And it’s the very 
same song that you hear his descendants sing- 
ing softly every single afternoon, whenever 
the kettle boils!” 


V 



i 









. I. (• 





CONFIDENCES 



V 


I’ll hang my happy hours upon a string 
And wear it gaily; 

And when each morn brings some new, splendid thing, 
I’ll add it daily. 

And counting all the joys, and jokes, and smiles. 
I’ll have a string that reaches miles and miles! 

The String of Pleasures. 


CHAPTER III 


CONFIDENCES 

“Uncle Maek is coming after dinner!” an- 
nounced Mamma, while they were having tea. 
Instantly they all shouted with delight. 

Uncle Mark was something of a wanderer, 
and nearly always turned up with quaint little 
presents, strange and delectable sugar-plums, 
or — ^best of all ! — some interesting stories of his 
latest adventures. 

“Wonder what’ll be in the Treasure Chest 
this time?” said Chris, with his mouth full of 
tea-cake. The usual Treasure Chest was a 
squat brown bag which Uncle Mark was accus- 
tomed to carry and in which he had been wont 
to pack his remembrances for his nieces and 
nephews. 


46 


KITTY LOVE 


Mamma shook her head at Christopher re- 
provingly. 

“Mustn’t talk with your mouth full,” she 
said. “And mustn’t ‘plot for presents!’ ” 
This being a family phrase which they all 
perfectly understood. 

Chris blushed a little. “I really didn’t mean 
to ‘plot,’ ” he explained rather crestfallen, “I 
was just thinking out loud!” 

“Gweedy! Gweedy!” chanted the lisping 
twins. “Mummy,” added the Tadpole shrilly, 
“can we go and feed the wabbith?” 

“You not only can go, but you must!” said 
Mrs. Love. “It’s getting late, and bunnies 
like to go to bed early ; and how can they sleep, 
poor dears, while they’re hungry?” 

“Mummy!” Midge stopped to demand, 
“will you tell uth a thory about wabbiths thome 
day?” 

“Yes, some day. Run along now, dear!” 

46 


KITTY LOVE 


The twins departed and the black kitten 
which had been prancing about playing with 
some scattered leaves about the lawn, dashed 
after them half way across the lawn, and then 
dashed back again. 

“That’s the liveliest kitten I ever saw,” said 
Chris. “It’ll run away some day, dr get killed 
or something.” 

“It’s so black one can’t see it after dark,” 
said Mamma. “I wish you’d take it up to the 
house, Chris, and tell Becky to give it some 
bread and milk.” 

Chris made an obedient dive for the kitten, 
which made an accompanying dive away from 
him. Mrs. Love sat laughing as Kitty joined 
in the chase. 

“King Cole!” shouted the children in vary- 
ing tones, — ^that being the name of the hit of 
black fluff careening about the lawn, — “Coley, 
— Coley darling! King Cole!” 

47 


KITTY LOVE 


It was ten minutes before they caught King 
Cole, and he was a very cross little monarch at 
being captured at all. 

“Pst! Pst!” spat his small black majesty. 
“Scat!” he seemed to he saying. “Let me 
alone, you stupid, clumsy, interfering hrnnans, 
you! Pst! Scat!” 

“Come along in,” Christopher said sternly. 
“I’U take you in and put you in chains! 
Mummy, may I walk down the road as far as 
the willow pool? It’s so jolly about this 
time,” he added rather shamefacedly. Chris 
really loved beautiful scenery and sunsets and 
all that, but being a boy he thought it silly to 
admit it. 

“Indeed you may not!” said Mrs. Love de- 
cidedly. “There have been any amount of 
tramps aroimd, and an Italian organ-grinder 
with a dreadful-looking dog — so the servants 
say — I shouldn’t have a minute’s peace of mind 
48 


KITTY LOVE 


if I knew that you were out of the grounds 
after dark.” 

“ ’Tisn’t really dark, Mummy,” pleaded 
Chris. 

“ ’Tis too, Chrisy dear!” Kitty contradicted. 
“Just look at the shadows!” 

“There aren’t any,” said Chris, looking over 
the darkened lawn. 

“Well, that’s what I mean!” said his sister. 
“It’s all one big shade!” 

Evening had indeed fallen; it was cool and 
still and so sweet smelling, even sweeter than 
it had been in the sunlight. They could hardly 
see Chris’s figure as he tramped across over to 
the house. A thrush began to sing, hidden 
away in the shrubbery. 

“How heavenly it smells!” said Kitty, who 
had lingered at the tea table with her mother. 
“Mamma,” she added, “why does everything 
smell sweeter in the dark?” 


49 


KITTY LOVE 


“I suppose it’s because it’s the only way they 
can make themselves noticed. In the daytime 
the flowers have colours to attract you; and at 
night they’ve only scents.” 

There was a little silence, and at last Kitty, 
with a beating heart, ventured) on her great 
question: 

“Mamma, — ^would you very much mind — ” 

“Mind what, dear?” 

“Mind telling me about — ^about Grandmoth- 
er’s letter this morning?” said Kitty with a 
rush, beginning at the wrong end first. 

“Why, Kitty, what do you mean?” 

Mrs. Love’s voice was gentle but surprised. 
Kitty jumped up and ran around the table in 
the half light. She plumped down on the 
ground at her mother’s feet and rested her 
arms on her knees as she chattered, eagerly and 
rather breathlessly: 

“You see. Mummy darling, Chris and I do 
50 


KITTY LOVE 


most awfully want to know about things, — 
about why we don’t know Grandmother and 
Grandfather, — and why you and Papa some- 
times look so sad, and why, — and why — ” she 
paused for breath. 

“I understand,” said Mrs. Love softly ca- 
ressing the tumbled head at her knee. “Of 
course you want to know all about Papa and 
myself, and I might have realised that you 
could not help guessing that we had a sort of 
secret, — ^not very much of a secret, but some- 
thing that does trouble us now and then, — and 
of course I’ll tell you, my Kitty.” 

“Oh, thank you. Mamma,” said Kitty lov- 
ingly. “I don’t think it’s just being inquisi- 
tive,” she hastened to add, “but I’m ten and 
Chris is eleven, and — ” she hesitated. 

“And you’re old enough to be in our confi- 
dence,” finished Mamma, in a most understand- 
ing way. 


61 


KITTY LOVE 


“Yes, Mummy dear! At least we should so 
love to be!” 

“You see,” said Mamma very gently, “when 
Papa and I were first married we lived with 
my mother and father and my brother Mark, 
and my father and your Papa and Uncle Mark 
were all in business together. Then, — ^you 
wouldn’t understand all of it now, dearest, — 
but someone forged a cheque for a large sum 
involving the firm, — and your Grandfather 
thought it was Papal” 

“Oh, Mamma! But wouldn’t that have 
been dishonourable?” 

“Yes, darling, most dishonourable; it would 
have been stealing. And of course, after your 
Grandfather began to think it over he knew 
that he had been unjust, but your father could 
never forgive him for having believed such a 
wicked thing, and my father would never admit 
that he himself had been in the wrong. So we 
5^ 


KITTY LOVE 


came away and I have never seen them since.” 

Mamma looked very sad, but in a minute she 
smiled down at Kitty with bright tenderness. 
“Of course I miss my father and mother. Just 
as you would miss Papa and me if you had to 
go away from us — ” 

“I couldn’t! We couldn’t!” 

“But I have your father, and I have my four 
little people to make me happy, and I am 
happy, Kitty dear!” 

“And Grandmother’s letter?” whispered 
Kitty, gently stroking her mother’s hand. 

“She wrote, Kitty, — she wrote to ask if I 
would send one of my children for them to edu- 
cate and bring up !” 

“Oh, Mamma,” she gasped, “how dreadful!” 

Her mother could not help laughing. 

“My dear, don’t look so tragic! I am not 
going to send any of you, never fear. I can’t 
spare even an inch of one of you, Kitty. But 
53 


KITTY LOVE 


it shows me, — oh, Kitty, it shows me that those 
poor old people must be very lonely, and it 
makes me feel so sad!” 

Kitty scrambled up to hug her mother with 
passionate affection. 

“Darling Mammal” she murmured. “I do 
think you are the dearest, sweetest, loveliest — ” 

“Oh, dear, dear, dear! What an enthusias- 
tic daughter !” laughed Mrs. Love, holding her 
close. “Come, kitten! — It is high time to go 
and get neat for supper.” 

“Mamma,” whispered Kitty a little shyly, 
“thank you ten million thousand times for 
talking to me about — about things. It makes 
me feel, — it makes me feel — ” She could not 
find just the right words. 

“As if you were my own dear daughter and 
in my confidence!” said her mother tenderly. 
“Well, so you are, Kitty; and so you’ve a right 
to be. And you’re getting to be such a very 
54 


KITTY LOVE 


old Kitty! — Before I know it, you will be a 
growing-up daughter, instead of a little girl!” 

And she sighed and smiled almost in one 
breath. 

“Oh, Mamma, I do love you!” cried Kitty 
with one final hug. Suddenly, just as she was 
about to run away, she stopped short and said 
with some hesitation, “Mamma, is it silly to 
love things so hard? They all laugh at me for 
it, but sometimes I — I feel as though I should 
simply burst with thinking— thinking — ^how 
lovely things are!” cried Kitty fervently. 

“I don’t think it is silly,” said her mother 
softly. “I think it is very nice to find things 
lovely; and the very nicest and loveliest thing 
of aU is love itself, little Kitty!” 

Then she and Kitty went in through the sum- 
mery sweet dusk. 

The children had supper in the nursery as 
usual under the care of Nurse Ann. Nurse 
55 


KITTY LOVE 

Ann was a thin old Scotchwoman, who looked 
very cross, but was really very kind. The chil- 
dren loved her, and she loved them devotedly, 
though sometimes she scolded them roundly 
and pretended to be very unsympathetic and 
disapproving. 

I wonder if you like to know what sort of 
things the people in books had to eat? The 
four children had scrambled eggs that night, 
and little fresh brook trout beautifully broiled, 
and hot buttered toast, and delicious cocoa, and 
four big, deep saucers of ripe red raspberries! 
And when every last crumb and berry had been 
eaten up, and the last wee fish-bone polished 
clean, they straightened their clothes, and 
smoothed their hair, and went downstairs to 
spend an hour with the grown-ups who were 
there at dinner. 

Uncle Mark had arrived, and he hailed them 
with a cheery shout when they trooped into the 
66 


KITTY LOVE 


dining-room. Papa too looked up gladly at 
sight of them. He had not seen them before 
to-day, for he was finishing an important his- 
torical book and spent long hours shut up in his 
study secure from interruption. 

Papa was tail, and very grave looking, but 
with little twinkles in his eyes which kept show- 
ing themselves at the most unexpected mo- 
ments. Just when you thought how awfully 
serious he was, — presto! There would be the 
twinkle to prove how wrong your idea of him 
was after all! He was a very nice sort of 
Papa, the children thought, and they loved to 
sit leaning against his knee in the evenings, 
while he told them queer, interesting things out 
of history-books, and “travels,” and “lives of 
great men.” He hardly ever told regular sto- 
ries about Make-Believe matters, like Mamma, 
hut he always managed to make whatever he 
talked about seem interesting. As I have told 
67 


KITTY LOVE 


you, he was a writer, by business, — a writer on 
very big, serious subjects, but that didn’t keep 
him from having a splendid sense of humour, 
and the kindest, warmest heart in all the world. 
He was not very strong, as you already know, 
and had to live in the country where it was 
quiet, and where there was pure air, and where 
he could wi’ite his learned articles in peace. 

Uncle Mark, on the contrary, was very merry 
and young-looking, — he was, in fact, several 
years younger than his sister. Mamma, and 
anyone would say that she was young enough 
to be sure! He was fair, like her, with the 
same greyish eyes and delightful smile, and 
often the children thought that one reason why 
they loved him so much was that he reminded 
them in so many little ways of their mother. 

“Hello, youngsters!” he shouted gaily, 
jumping up from the table. “Come and give 
me a hug; — one at a time, please! Tadpole, 
68 


KITTY LOVE 


you’ve grown a foot longer! — Midge,”' — he 
held the fat little girl off at arms’ length to look 
her over; — “you“ he added, “have grown a foot 
round! Hello, Chris! How’s the fishing? 
And here’s my own particular sweetheart, 
Kitty ! Kitty Love, my love Kitty, — ^how goes 
it?” 

They all pressed close around him, for there 
was something about Uncle Mark that won 
your heart immediately. He was merry, and 
kind, and persuasive, and so good-looking! In 
a few minutes the children were sitting, two on 
a chair, on either side of him, while he went on 
with his dinner. 

Of course, they had scraps of particularly 
nice dinner-food, — at least Midge and Tad ate 
frankly and gratefully from spoons and forks 
offered to them, while Chris and Kitty behaved 
with more dignity, and nibbled olives and salted 
almonds, — a very few, because Mamma 
59 


KITTY LOVE 


thought them indigestible. Then they had wee 
little saucers of dessert when the time came, and 
a bunch of four grapes each. 

Then they all went up with Uncle Mark to 
his room, and explored the wonderful “Treas- 
ure Chest.” And such delightful things were 
in it this time! There was a little string of 
coral beads for Kitty, and a Japanese doll for 
Midge, and a mechanical canary for Taddie, 
and a really splendid book of flies for Christo- 
pher, the fisherman of the family. And 
there was a pink Japanese lantern, and a 
box of candy, and two or three more trifles 
tucked in to fill up the comers of the brown 
bag. 

“And bh, by the bye, Katherine,” added 
Uncle Mark to Mamma, who was smiling at 
them all from the door, “I brought you some- 
thing, too: — a magic lotus bulb!” 

“A magic lotus bulb!” repeated Mrs. Love, 

.60 


KITTY LOVE 

looking pleased. “Why, where did you find 
it?” 

“And what,” demanded Papa, over her 
shoulder, “does it do to show it is a magic one?” 

Uncle Mark laughed. 

“I don’t beheve it does much of anything 
novo” he said. “But once upon a time it used 
to bloom in all sorts of different colours, — at 
least so an old Jap friend of mine says! I’ll 
tell you all about it sometime, just as he told it 
to me. Put it in a bowl of water, Katherine, 
and it’ll grow beautifully. — Come on, kids; 
let’s go downstairs. I want to smoke; and if 
you like I’ll tell you about my camping trip in 
the Rockies before you go to bed. They may 
sit up an extra hour to-night, mayn’t they?” 


61 


ADVENTURES OF KING COLE 


Oh, Mortals, do you wonder why 
We kitties are the way we be? 

The thing that makes us wild and shy 
Is memory! 

When on still nights the fever bums 
Within me, and I run away 
To follow tempting forest turns 
Till break o’ day, — 

I am a panther, while I roam, 

A panther with a savage roar ! . . . 

But in the morning I’ll come home, 

A cat once more ! 

The Song of the Cats. 


CHAPTER IV 


ADVENTURES OF KING COLE 

And of course King Cole 'would choose that 
particular night, when things were so extra 
jolly, even for Merry Vale, to go and get lost! 

Kitty went as usual, to find his majesty and 
put him to bed, and couldn’t discover a sign of 
him. The royal basket was very soft and com- 
fortable, and though it changed its quarters ac- 
cording to the weather, it was always the same 
cosy little basket, and as a rule King Cole was 
charmed to crawl in and curl up in it, in the 
happiest and most cuddlesome manner possible ! 
In the spring when Coley first came to them, 
the basket always stood near the kitchen stove 
where it was nice and warm. Now that coolness 
and not warmth was the desirable thing, it was 
65 


KITTY LOVE 


stowed away back of the ice-box, and Papa 
often pretended to grumble about it, declaring 
that Cole had all the best of it, and that some 
fine evening, he, — Papa, — ^was going to sleep 
in that basket by the ice-chest himself, and get 
a really good night’s rest! 

And to-night there was no King Cole to be 
found in the whole of the house and grounds! 

The children were really frightened, for 
there are any. number of dreadful things that 
can happen to a kitten not so very many inches 
long, and in a few minutes everybody was hunt- 
ing, — Nurse Ann, and Becky, and even Brax- 
ton, the man-of-all-work. And Papa tele- 
phoned to all the houses near that had tele- 
phones, and Braxton went himself to the poorer 
cottages. But no one had seen anything of a 
black kitten with a remarkable tail and a very 
independent disposition. 

It was Kitty who suggested telephoning the 
66 


KITTY LOVE 


Marchmonts, — friends of the Loves whom they 
often went to see. 

“But they live two miles away,” objected 
Papa. “Even such a superior kitten as King 
Cole could hardly have gotten as far as that all 
by himself!” 

“But someone might have picked him up and 
carried him, and — and — Do try them any- 
way, Papa!” pleaded Kitty, who was almost 
crying with anxiety. Indeed she was fast get- 
ting into that desperate frame of mind when 
you will willingly try anything, just to feel 
that you are doing something, and that you are 
not giving up hope. 

So Papa obediently tried them. Mr. and 
Mrs. Marchmont were out, but finally Ned, the 
twelve-year-old boy, came to the telephone. 

“Hello, Mr. Love!” said he cordially. 
“How’s everyone? Mother and Dad are 
out.” 


67 


KITTY LOVE 


“Hello, Ned,” said Papa. “Have you got 
a black kitten of ours by any chance?” 

“A black which, sir?” came Ned’s surprised 
voice. 

“A black kitten. It belongs to Kitty.” 

Ned and Kitty were great friends, and 
he took a greatly increased interest right 
away. 

“Oh, it belongs to Kitty? Will you wait 
just a minute, sir, please — I’ll ask one of the 
maids.” 

Papa could just hear his voice speaking to 
someone near the instrument: “ . . . Yes, 
a black one, ... it belongs to Miss Kitty, 
Kitty Love, you know. . . . Might have 

been left here. . . . Oh, it is? . . . 

Good!” Then he turned to the telephone 
again very cheerfully: 

“Yes; it’s here. I’ll bring it over in the 
morning.” 


68 


KITTY LOVE 


“You’ll get it to-morrow, Kitty,” said Mr. 
Love. “Will that do?” 

“Oh, Papa, dear!” she cried, now really al- 
most in tears. “Couldn’t you please send to- 
night?” 

“Kitty wants it to-night, my boy,” said Mr. 
Love into the telephone. “We’ll send for 
it.” 

“Oh, all right, sir.” Ned Marchmont was 
always a polite boy, but Mr. Love thought that 
he sounded a wee bit astonished. “Couldn’t I 
bring it over in my pocket?” 

“Certainly not !” said Mr. Love rather indig- 
nantly. “Kitty thinks a lot of that kitten! 
Bring it in your pocket, indeed ! — My lad, I’m 
surprised at you!” 

“Oh, very well, sir; of course it’s just as you 
say. I thought — it being July, there might be 
no particular hurry for it, but — but — well — 
Good-night, sir.” 


69 


KITTY LOVE 


“We’ll send over,” repeated Mr. Love. 
“Good-night, Ned.” 

Papa hung up the receiver and knitted his 
brows trying to imagine why Ned should think 
that Kitty wanted her kitten less in July than 
at any other time. 

Meanwhile Kitty and the twins were almost 
dancing with - excitement. They were all so 
wild to go to the Marchmonts’ themselves to 
fetch the kitten, that Mr. Love had to be al- 
most stern about it. 

“No!” he exclaimed. “None of you are 
going ! It’s probably going to rain in the first 
place, and you are going to bed, in the second. 
Braxton can take the runabout, and drive over 
in no time!” 

Braxton was coachman, gardener, and a 
number of other things. He was much amused 
when he heard what he was to do. He and 
Becky and Nurse Ann were having a few quiet 
70 


KITTY LOVE 


cups of tea in the kitehen, when Mamma went 
in to give the order. 

“Drive two miles to call for a kitten !” said 
he, and he ehuckled comfortably, for Braxton 
was as fat as Nurse Ann was thin. “No won- 
der they says animals is knowin’. Nowadays 
the cats is telephonin’ the hour they want their 
carriages! — Ha, ha, ha! Ho, ho, ho!” And 
he shook with laughter. “Will I be puttin’ on 
me livery, ma’am?” he asked, suddenly pulling 
a long face. 

“I hardly think the kitten will insist upon 
it!” said Mrs. Love with a grave face, but with 
a twinkle in her eyes as she left the kitchen. 

“Ah! And there’s one lovely lady!” ex- 
claimed Becky solemnly. Indeed, Becky was 
mostly solemn. She was tall and broad, and 
took life with great seriousness ; and she adored 
Mrs. Love. 

Braxton nodded his head, still laughing, 
71 


KITTY LOVE 


and gulped down his last sugary drop of tea. 
Then he went off, continuing to chuckle fatly, 
to harness up Peter, the Loves’ one horse, and 
go to bring his kittenish majesty home. 

“How do you suppose King Cole ever got 
as far as the Marchmonts’ ?” wondered Kitty, 
as they listened to Peter’s smart trot going off 
down the road into the distance. 

“Someone stole him,” suggested Christo- 
pher, “and then they got tired of him, or else 
he scratched them too much — ” 

“Oh, I hope tho!” cried Ted fervently. 

“Good, dear puthy, to thcrath them!” cooed 
Midge. 

“And then,” proceeded Chris, “they threw 
him into a hedge, and he climbed out, and he 
ran across a field, — ^no, two fields, — ^those nub- 
bly ones with the stones, you remember, Kitty? 
He could run as far as that, I reckon! And 
then he found a farmer’s market-basket resting 
72 


KITTY LOVE 


by the road, and he climbed in, and — and — 
and the farmer carried him to the March- 
montsM” finished Chris triumphantly. 

They all laughed at this flight of fancy. 

“What a pity,” said Mamma, “that King 
Cole can’t tell us all about his adventures when 
he gets home!” 

“If he could,” put in Uncle Mark, “and if 
the adventures had been anything like what 
Chris suggests, he would be a regular Baron 
Munchausen 1” 

“Who was he?” demanded Chris hastily, who 
liked to know all about everything as he went 
along. 

“Oh, Chrissy, you remember!” exclaimed 
Kitty reproachfully, who had a good memory 
for anything in books. “The old gentleman 
who had the adventures that couldn’t possibly 
have happened, you know !” 

“An admirable description,” said Uncle 
73 


KITTY LOVE 


Mark. “Now let’s sit down and be comfy, all 
of us. Your dad and I want to smoke.” 

“My dear Mark,” protested Mrs. Love, “it’s 
long past their bedtime!” 

“Nonsense!” said this most satisfactory 
uncle. “You wouldn’t be cruel enough to send 
them to bed while that poor, lonely kitten is a 
wanderer upon the face of the — ” 

“Oh, Mummy, we must stay!” cried Kitty 
and Christopher. The twins had curled up at 
Mamma’s feet, and were nearly asleep already, 
so it didn’t matter so much about them! 

“Oh, all right, for once!” murmured Mamma 
weakly. “Children, are you sure you are warm 
enough?” 

They exclaimed “Oh, rather. Mummy!” to 
that, and settled themselves on the floor of the 
piazza, each leaning against one of the big 
posts that were wreathed in honeysuckle. And 
how good the honeysuckle smelled! 

74i 


KITTY LOVE 


The light from the red-shaded lamp in the 
parlour streamed out between the curtains of 
the open windows. There was no moon to- 
night, and the stars only peeped out occasion- 
ally from behind gathering clouds. The only 
sounds in the sweet, damp, dark outside world 
were the steady chatter of the tree-toads, and 
the little near by chirp of friendly crickets in 
the grass. 

Papa and Uncle Mark were smoking, and 
the smell of the cigar and cigarette mixed very 
pleasantly with the summer night scents. It 
was all so happy, so peaceful, so home-like, — 
and now even the kitten was on the way home! 
Kitty had that funny feeling that you get at 
such moments, the feeling of wanting to cry 
just because everything is so beautiful, and so 
absolutely the way it ought to be 1 

They didn’t talk much, and yet it seemed a 
very short time before they heard a sharp trot- 
76 


KITTY LOVE 


ting noise on the road outside the grounds. 

“That’s Peter!” said Papa, taking his cigar 
from his lips and listening intently. “There 
isn’t another horse anywhere around here that 
trots as well as that!” 

Sure enough, in a moment they heard a trap 
turn in at their driveway, and up came Peter 
and the runabout at a smart pace. They could 
catch Braxton’s voice saying, “Whoa, there, 
boy!” and they one and all hurried forward to 
welcome the prodigal kitten. 

As Braxton drove up into the light from the 
piazza, they saw his fat, good-natured face 
twisted up into knots of merriment. His voice 
was rather choked as he said to Papa, who was 
standing on the steps : 

“Please, sir, — ^it — ^it — ^it’s here!” 

He choked again, and then very solemnly he 
took from his pocket a tiny dark object, and 
handed it to Mr. Love. 


76 


KITTY LOVE 


“But, good Heavens!” exclaimed Papa, 
holding it up, “why — ^it’s not, — it’s not a black 
kitten; it’s a black mittenr 

And that is just what it was, and just what 
Ned Marchmont had understood him to ask 
for, — Kitty’s black mitten which she had left 
there months before! 

In spite of their renewed anxiety for the real 
kitten, they laughed till they cried over the mis- 
take. 

“No wonder,” gasped Papa, “Ned couldn’t 
understand why Kitty should need this so ur- 
gently in July! Here, my dear, take it! It’s 
had a journey in state at all events!” 

“But where is King Cole?” complained 
Kitty, who, now that her amusement had died 
down, was more worried than ever about her 
little pet. 

At this inopportune moment. Midge began 
to cry loudly. Mamma gathered her hastily 
77 


KITTY LOVE 


up in her arms, and they all tried to comfort 
her between questions. 

“Never mind, darling! What’s the matter? 
Were you crying for the kitten. Midge?” 

“N-N-No,” sobbed Midge, clinging to 
Mamma. “It wath a ghotht.” 

“A what?” 

“A go-o-otht!” A long-drawn shudder of 
terrified tears. 

“A ghost! Oh, no, dearie! You couldn’t 
have seen a ghost!” 

“She’s been dreaming,” Mamma said, sooth- 
ing her tenderly. 

“What sort of a ghost was it. Midge?” asked 
Chris, the ever curious. “A big, tall, ghost 
with arms?” 

“N-no. It were a little ghotht.” 

“Little!” 

“A little, thquare ghotht all white, an’ it wig- 
gled at me, an’ whithperedr 
78 


KITTY LOVE 


“A little, square white ghost that wiggled 
and whispered!” repeated Uncle Mark. 
“Wei, it must have been a corker. It must 
have been a peach of a ghost! I’d like to see 
it!” 

“Just imagination,” cried Papa, almost test- 
ily. “Really, Katherine, I do think you en- 
courage these children’s fanciful ideas too 
much. You know, my dear, when it comes to 
seeing ghosts — ” 

“And describing them so clearly,” put in 
Uncle Mark, who was peering into the dark- 
ness with much interest. 

“Perhaps it was a piece of paper,” suggested 
Mrs. Love. 

Midge sat up on her legs, and stopped cry- 
ing, so great was her indignation. 

“It were not!” she declared loudly. “It 
walked all down the lawn and went wound the 
corner, and it whithpered!” 

79 


KITTY LOVE 


“What did it whisper?” said Chris. 

But Midge had begun to whimper again, 
her head buried in Mrs. Love’s shoulder. 

“I wonder,” said her mother nervously, “if 
it could have been a tramp prowling about.” 

“If he was little, and square, and white, he 
was a fine tramp !” said Uncle Mark. “He — ” 
And just then they all heard something un- 
mistakably, a little soft scratching noise, at the 
other end of the piazza. Tad, who had been 
very brave until then just because Midge was 
scared, now gave a howl of terror, and he too 
fled to his mother for protection. It truly was 
a little startling, that stealthy moving of some- 
thing they couldn’t see. And then a glimmer 
of white showed among the green vines trained 
over the end of the piazza. 

“Mercy!” exclaimed Mrs. Love. “It really 
is very odd! Now, what do you — ” 

Suddenly a long, weird cry rose on the air. 

80 


KITTY LOVE 


“Why, it’s a young banshee!” cried Uncle 
Mark, and he and Papa started in the direc- 
tion of the white glimmer. 

But Kitty was before them. 

“Oh, didn’t you know his voice!” she cried 
reproachfully. “I’d know it anywhere! Its 
King CoUr 

And it was. 

Poor little King Cole had gotten into — ^now, 
what do you suppose? A big piece of fly-paper 
on the kitchen dresser! Of course, as Becky 
said later, it served him right for trying to steal 
the fish that was lying there waiting to be made 
into chowder. But that didn’t help poor Co- 
ley. He got all rolled up in that dreadful, 
sticky fly-paper, and the more he struggled 
the tighter he was stuck, and the tighter he was 
stuck the more he struggled, and the more he 
struggled the more frightened he grew, until 
finally he and the fly-paper flopped and rustled 
81 


KITTY LOVE 


off into the cellar, where he had spent two or 
three hours rushing about and scaring the rats 
till their whiskers nearly turned white! 

So it was King Cole in the fly-paper that 
was Midge’s “little, square, white ghost,” and 
of course the rustling noise he made had 
sounded like “whispering” to her excited ears. 

They caught the unfortunate kitten, not 
without difficulty, for he was too beside himself 
with his trials to be able to trust even his 
friends, and they finally got the fly-paper off — 
and King Cole scratched and wiggled and 
mewed all the time, for the gluey stuff stuck to 
his fur and pulled it. At last he was free, — 
but such a sticky, woe-begone little cat you 
never saw! 

‘T don’t envy whoever washes him!” said 
Uncle Mark, looking at three deep red 
scratches on his own hand, for he had assisted 
at the rescue. 


82 


KITTY LOVE 


Kitty seized King Cole, sticky and fighting 
as he was, in loving arms. 

“I should think,” she cried warmly, “that 
anyone would be ashamed to mind a few 
scratches, when the poor darling is so — so un- 
comfortable! Coley, dear. I’ll wash you this 
minute and make you nice and clean and happy 
again!” 

And she did, and King Cole slept on her 
bed, afterward, all muffled up in an old blanket 
so that he could dry by degrees during the 
night. 

Kitty was rather scratched, but she really 
didn’t mind a bit. The kitten was safe ! 


83 


i 



\ 


9 


I 


THE PICNIC— AND FLORRIE 


Your grown-up dinners may be quite nice, 
With oysters and quail, and strawberry ice, 
And think of the feasts in Romo of old 
With carpets of roses, and platters of gold ! 
And fairy dishes of honey and dew 
I think must be lovely to eat, — don’t you? 

But Fm sure that nothing could taste so good 
As our own delicious picnic food ! 


The Pichniclcers. 


CHAPTER V 


THE PICNIC — AND ELORRIE 

“I wish/^ said Chris, “that I could ride in an 
automobile just once!” 

“So do I,” said Kitty eagerly. “And I wish 
I had an aeroplane, and a saddle-horse, and a 
dog, and — ” 

“DeRr, dear!” said Mrs. Love, coming unex- 
pectedly into the nursery. “What ambitious 
children ! Don’t you want any little thing that 
Papa and I could by some chance afford to 
give you?” 

“I want a pig-nig!” announced the Tadpole 
boldly. 

“Well, a picnic is possible,” said Mamma, 
considering, “as long as Chris and Kitty don’t 
insist on going in automobiles or aeroplanes!” 

87 


KITTY LOVE 


The picnic proved a welcome plan to every- 
one. Failing machines for either racing or 
flying, Peter and the carryall would do excel- 
lently, they all agreed. They planned it for 
the very next day. There were Papa and Un- 
cle Mark ; Mamma and the four children to go, 
and the Marchmonts, — Ned and Grace. The 
carryall would hold all the Loves but one, and 
Chris could squeeze into the Marchmonts’ buck- 
board. The buckboard would have to take the 
lunch, too, as both twins and Kitty would be 
packed with Mamma on the back seat of the 
carryall, while Papa and Uncle Mark sat in 
front. Of course it would be a tight squeeze, 
but who minded that on a picnic? And Peter 
was strong and the carriage a light one, and no 
one wanted to go fast. 

“And then,” as Papa said, “if anyone tum- 
bles out, it won’t hurt them and they can just 
run along till they catch up, and climb in again 
88 


KITTY LOVE 


without our having to stop the horse at all!” 

They decided to have this picnic in a dear 
little woodland clearing by a stream where they 
had been several times before, though never 
for a picnic. The children called it Peter Pan’s 
Glen, because the trees around it grew so close 
and green, just like the trees in the tops of 
which Peter had his little house, you remem- 
ber? 

I wish you could have seen the preparations 
for that picnic! Becky set to work at once to 
bake gingerbread, and Mamma telephoned to 
the village store for an extra dozen of lemons 
for lemonade. And Papa and Christopher 
went every five minutes to see if the needle in 
the weather glass had changed to “rain” by any 
chance since the last time they had looked 
at it! 

Kitty wanted to take King Cole, but she de- 
cided that after the fly-paper adventure he 
89 


KITTY LOVE 

would be better off at home. Besides she 
would have felt she had to look out for him 
every single solitary minute. And no one with 
such a responsibility as that could really enjoy 
a picnic. 

Almost the nicest thing of all was waking 
up early next morning and finding it a simply 
perfect day; with not a cloud to be seen, and 
everybody feeling well and in the highest mid- 
summer spirits. And the very first thing to 
do was to pack the hampers with luncheon. 
Oh, the smell of the gingerbread as Kitty did 
it up in big white napkins ! Becky didn’t bake 
her gingerbread in large, flat loaves like most 
cooks, but in little cakes — fat, round little 
cakes. And she frosted them and stuck nuts 
and raisins in the tops, — two nuts and one rai- 
sin on each. These latter were purely for dec- 
oration, but the taste of them mixed so beauti- 
fully with the taste of the gingerbread that the 
90 


KITTY LOVE 


children always ate around the middle piece and 
saved it for one last delicious mouthful. And 
then Becky’s egg-sandwiches! Of course I 
daresay you know people who think they can 
make egg-sandwiches. But, ten to one, they 
boil the eggs hard first and then chop them up 
— now, don’t they? Well, Becky boiled hers 
soft, and then beat them up with salt and pep- 
per and butter, and then spread that between 
thin slices of the crispest brown toast that ever 
was, and did each little toast sandwich up in 
waxed paper so the eggy filling couldn’t run 
out, and^ — well, when one was hungry, how in- 
describably good it was ! 

Then there were oranges — and a bag of loaf 
sugar so you could press a few lumps into the 
end of your orange before you sucked it — ^the 
one and only right way to ever eat oranges, of 
course! And there were chicken sandwiches 
as well as egg ones, and a quart Thermos bot- 
91 


KITTY LOVE 


tie full of ice-cold lemonade, and cottage cheese 
made at home by Becky and mixed with cream 
and sugar before it was put into an empty 
marmalade jar and corked up securely. And 
there were many other good things; but those 
I think were about the best. 

Of course at a picnic you wanted to wear 
your most comfortable things, so Chris wore 
blue duck knickerbockers and a very thin, loose 
shirt, and Kitty a pink muslin, very old and 
faded, but so cool and nice to wear in hot 
weather; and Tad had a brown linen sailor suit 
that he could get just as dirty as he liked, and 
Midge had one just like it, except that hers had 
a skirt, and that the Tadpole had begun to wear 
real knickerbockers that summer — and was 
tremendously proud of them, too! 

And just as everything was going so beauti- 
fully something happened, as usual. It was 
quite a simple, innocent little happening on 
92 


KITTY LOVE 

the face of it, but it made a lot of difference 
to Kitty’s day, as you will see later. 

A little girl selling berries came to the 
kitchen door, and Mamma, who was helping 
Becky with the sandwiches, went out to speak 
to her herself. When she came back her kind 
eyes looked quite sad. 

“Get a bowl for the berries, Kitty,” she 
said. “And wouldn’t you like to take the 
little girl out a glass of milk? It’s such a 
warm day, and she looks tired as well as hot.” 

Kitty flew to the ice-chest and filled a glass 
with cold rich milk. Needless to say, she was 
in such a hurry that she nearly spilled it. 

“Careful, dear!” said her mother. Then she 
added in a lower tone. “Be very nice to the 
little girl, Kitty. Poor child, she is very un- 
fortunate. Her mother, who is dead, was a 
teacher, and the little girl comes from a family 
of ladies and gentlemen; but her father is idle 
93 


KITTY LOVE 

and drunken, and ill-treats her. It is terrible 
that Florence Lawton’s daughter should live 
as she has to, never speaking to any edu- 
cated people except when she sells them ber- 
ries !” 

The little girl was sitting on the steps fan- 
ning herself with a big morning-glory leaf 
which she had pulled from the vine that grew 
beside the kitchen door. Her dress was old 
and needed more buttons, but it was not dirty, 
and neither was she — except her feet, that is, 
which were bare and covered with dust. Her 
hair was red and curled all over her head. She 
was pale and thin and rather freckled, — not 
at all a pretty little girl, and she looked rather 
cross besides. 

“Oh, how do you do?” exclaimed Kitty 
shyly. “Won’t you please have this milk? — 
It’s so hot to-day!” she added hastily, fearing 
that the little girl might be hurt by the proffer 
94 



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KITTY LOVE 


of charitable food, — “and I like a glass my- 
self, you know, when I’m hot.” 

The little girl took the milk without a word 
of thanks, and began to gulp it down. If 
her feelings were hurt it was only because 
there wasn’t more of it. 

“Oh, will you have another glass?” said 
Kitty. “Or would you rather have lemonade? 
Oh, but you can’t take milk and lemonade 
together — can you?” 

The little girl stared at her. Her eyes were 
large and pale and prominent. 

“Do youse have milk and lem’nade both to 
oncet in your house?” she said. “My! That 
must be grand!” 

“We don’t have lemonade every day,” 
Kitty said, sitting down on the steps. “We — 
oh, do please tell me your name, — I can talk 
so much better if I know!” 

“Florrie — ” 


96 


KITTY LOVE 


“Oh, yes, — Mamma said your mother’s name 
was Florence.” 

“She’s dead,” said the little girl without 
emotion. 

“I know!” Kitty’s sympathetic eyes filled 
with tears. “It must be awful not to have a 
mother. But — won’t you please have more 
milk — or some gingerbread?” 

“Gingerbread!” The pale eyes seemed to 
stick out more than ever. “Say, you folks 
mus’ hev as much to eat as the man down to 
the village what keeps the hotel!” 

“You see we’re going to have a picnic,” 
explained Kitty, but stopped short as she saw 
the bewildered expression in Florrie’s freckled 
face. 

“What’s that?” demanded her guest. 

Kitty felt herself grow scarlet. Oh, how 
dreadful, how shameful that any little girl, — 
of her age, whose mother had known her 
96 


KITTY LOVE 


mother, — should never, never in all her bom 
days have even heard of a picnic! It seemed 
to Kitty as though her heart would burst, and 
for a moment she could not find words, then 
in a sort of gasp she cried, “Come with us 
and you’ll see!” 

“I don’t know what it is,” said Florrie 
cautiously, “but I guess if there’s lem- 
onade an’ gingerbread in it. I’ll come any- 
how.” 

Kitty with a sudden qualm rushed in to her 
mother. 

“Mamma,” she exclaimed, “please don’t 
scold me, but I — I’ve asked Florrie to go to 
the picnic.” 

Mrs. Love put down the pitcher of lemonade 
she was sweetening and took Kitty’s hand in 
hers. 

“Gently, my child,” she said. “Why did 
you do that?” 


97 


KITTY LOVE 


“Because — oh, mamma!” cried Kitty with 
a sob, ‘‘she'd never heard of one!” 

Mrs. Love was silent for a moment. 

“Have you thought of how we are to take 
her?” she said quietly. 

Kitty’s eyes grew wider and wider. 

“Why — there isn’t room!” she said at last. 

“We’re rather a tight squeeze as it is,” said 
Mamma, with a troubled glance toward the 
open kitchen-door. “I love to have you gen- 
erous, Kitty, and hospitable, but I don’t see 
how—” 

“J do,” said Kitty bravely. “There’s one 
way of us making room for Florrie. She shall 
go in my place, and I’ll stay at home!” 

“But, little daughter,” said Mrs. Love 
gently, “I don’t want you to be disappointed. 
The picnic is for my own four children, and 
I can’t have one of them stay away from it.” 

“Mamma, darling,” said Kitty with the 
98 


KITTY LOVE 


little shy yet dignified air that she sometimes 
had in extremely serious moments, “Florrie 
is my guest, and I do think it’s only right that 
I should be the one to make — s-s-sac-ri-fices 
for her.” Kitty stammered a wee bit over 
long words when she was very much in 
earnest. 

Her mother looked at her tenderly andl 
gravely for a moment, then she drew the little 
girl to her and kissed her. 

“Very well, Kitty,” she said. “I under- 
stand. Florrie shall go as your guest, and 
we’ll all try to make her have as good a time 
as possible. I wonder — I wonder if you 
couldn’t squeeze in sitting on my lap or some- 
where?” 

Kitty flushed. 

“I’m too big to ride on people’s laps,” she 
said, “and besides, you’ve two twins to sit on 
it already. And anyway. Mamma, wouldn’t 
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KITTY LOVE 

it spoil it if I didn’t make some sac-ri-fice for 
my guest?” 

“Very well, dear,” said Mamma again. And 
nothing more was said about it. 

Poor Kitty! After she had made her de- 
cision her heart, instead of feeling light and 
joyful as one’s heart should after a “sac-ri- 
fice,” felt as heavy as a piece of lead. She 
tried to he glad that she had given up her 
own pleasure for Florrie’s sake, but somehow 
all she could think of was how cool and lovely 
it was going to be in Peter Pan’s Glen, and 
how hot it was at Merry Vale, and how good 
the chicken sandwiches and gingerbread cakes 
and lemonade were going to taste, and what 
fun it would he singing “Merrily we roll 
along,” and “Jingle bells” — ^no, that was what 
one sang in the winter, sleighing. But any- 
way, what wonderful sport it was all going to 
be, and how very, very lonely it would be at 
lOQ 


KITTY LOVE 


the house that long warm afternoon all by 
herself! 

Even while she was feeling all this, Kitty 
had to be dashing about helping everyone else 
to get off. And she had no time to really 
feel the full weight of her disappointment. 
Besides, Florrie was so happy about it that 
even a selfish httle girl would have rejoiced 
in having made her so, and Kitty was far from 
being selfish. 

At last hampers and children were safely 
packed into the two vehicles. The March- 
monts came a little late as usual, and there 
was no time to explain Kitty’s change of plan 
till the last moment. 

“Good-bye, my own brave, unselfish little 
girl,” whispered Mamma, kissing her as she 
stood on the doorstep. 

“Good-bye!” said Kitty in rather a wobbly 
voice. “Have a good time, everybody!” 

1011 


KITTY LOVE 


There was a sudden cry from the March- 
monts’ buckboard. 

“What’s that!” cried Grace, a black-eyed, 
pretty child. “Isn’t Kitty coming?” 

And Ned Marchmont exclaimed — “Why, 
that spoils everything!” 

And so greatly was Kitty touched by this 
point of view that she broke down altogether, 
and fled into the house. 

With the black kitten cuddled up against 
her face she listened to the carriage-wheels on 
the drive grow fainter and fainter. 

“Well, King Cole,” said she, drying her eyes 
on the soft black fur, “let’s see what we can 
do to pass away the time!” 


102 


AN IMPOSSIBLE ADVENTURE 


I wish Fd a galleon to breast the gale, 

With a gilded prow and a silken sail, 

And billows like those in a true sea-tale 
That thunder about the keel! 

I wish I’d a Pegasus steed to ride. 

Galloping over the heavens so wide. 

And pushing the smother of clouds to one side, — 
Oh, how do you s’pose Fd feel? 

I wish I’d a sword to kill dragons with wings, 

A sword like the swords of heroes and kings. 

With a handle of gold and silver and things. 

And a burnished blade of steel. 

And I wish Fd a magic-working gem 
Like the one in the Elf-Queen’s diadem; — 

But more than any or all of them — 

I wish I’d an automobile! 


A Song of Wishes. 


CHAPTER VI 


AN IMPOSSIBLE ADVENTURE 

Now one of these days you will discover, if 
you haven’t already, that when you are in 
trouble, there is one thing, — and one only, — 
that will help you through it; and that one 
thing is work. It seems very hard and very 
cruel to have to go and do something while 
your heart is aching and the tears still crawling 
down your cheeks in spite of yourself, — ^but 
once you face it and do it, you begin to feel 
more like yourself. Something lightens about 
your head and about your heart, and though 
you may not forget your sorrow or your dis- 
appointment or whatever it is, you can’t help 
feeling better and better, till you end by being 
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KITTY LOVE 


healthily tired, which is one of the best feel- 
ings in the world. 

Kitty, though she hadn’t yet worked it all 
out in the light of experience, felt that work 
would be her cure during that dreadfully long 
and lonely afternoon, so, after she had listened 
to the very last echo of Peter’s distant 
hoofs, and cried a little into King Cole’s 
soft black fur, she suddenly sat back on 
her heels and wondered what she could find to 
do! 

First and foremost, she went out and 
watered the flower beds. Mamma always im- 
pressed upon them all that flowers were almost 
as important to take care of as animals or 
people. “Poor, dear, green thing!” she often 
said, “how dreadful it must be to grow up and 
bloom for stupid, rmkind people who don’t 
appreciate the effort you have made! Al- 
ways take care of flowers, my dears, just to 
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KITTY LOVE 

show that you are neither dull nor ungrate- 
ful!” 

So Kitty went and found the big watering- 
pot that Braxton used, — it was too heavy for 
her, but she liked to have things extra hard 
to-day! — and lugged it down among the sweet- 
peas. Though the roses had stopped bloom- 
ing she gave their green and flowerless bushes 
some generous sprinkles, and she poured a lot 
on the geraniums because they were so bright 
and she liked them. Then she filled the skirt 
of her dress with sweet-peas, — ^pink and lav- 
ender and white and carried them in to dec- 
orate the parlour. In a little while she had a 
dozen vases and bowls full of the pretty things, 
and the house smelled like a garden. 

After that, she went up to the nursery, and 
picked up every last bit of anything that was 
lying around. She laid away dolls on shelves, 
and ribbons in drawers, and toys in boxes, and 
lOT 


KITTY LOVE 


after a while, without knowing she was do- 
ing it, she began to sing a little air that Nurse 
Ann had taught her. And finally, while she 
was stopping to remember the next line and to 
recollect whether Christopher kept his base 
ball in the toy-chest or the hall closet, she hap- 
pened to look up, and there was Ann standing 
in the nursery door looking at her. When she 
caught Kitty’s eye, she stalked in and seated 
herself by the open window. 

The nursery was a very pretty room, all 
blue paper and white paint with charming 
fairy tale pictures hung along the walls and 
chintz on the furniture. You would have 
thought that Nurse Ann would never have 
matched the rest, she was so grim and so bony, 
but somehow, as she sat down in the big rocker, 
in her stiff white apron and cap, and her eter- 
nal grey knitting in her long, thin, yellow fin- 
gers, Kitty found that she fitted in very nicely. 

108 


KITTY LOVE 

!Ajid somehow, — perhaps because she was so 
lonely to-day, — ^her heart quite warmed to 
Nurse Ann. 

“So ye didn’t go fo the parrty,” said Ann, 
in her own, sour way, clicking the steel knit- 
ting-needles as if her life depended on finish- 
ing that special lot of work. 

“No, Nurse,” said Kitty in a low voice. 

“Ah, weel!” said Nurse, knitting away — “it 
is as well, mebbe. tYe’ll find a deal to do at 
home.” 

Kitty said nothing to that, and the old 
woman shot her a sharp yet affectionate glance 
over her horn-rimmed spectacles. 

“Wad ye lak to do a bit o’ knittin’?” she 
asked kindly. 

“No, thank you. Nurse.” 

“Ah! weel! — ^Wad ye lak to do a bit o’ 
sewin’?” 

“No, thank you. Nurse.” 

109 


KITTY LOVE 


“Ah, weel! — ^Wad ye lak — Pshaw, IVe 
dropped a stitch!” She lapsed into silence and 
attended to her knitting, but somehow Eutty 
felt happier for the few words they had ex- 
changed. In some odd way that she could 
not explain, she knew that Nurse Ann sym- 
pathised with her, and felt kindly toward her 
for the disappointment about the picnic. 

When she went downstairs she filled the 
watering pot again and watered the hydrangeas 
on the piazza — as a matter of fact, she watered 
them altogether too much, as Braxton said that 
night when he went to look out for them. 
But if one is very zealous and anxious to do 
all that is possible, one is very apt to over-do 
everything one undertakes. 

Then she stood for five idle, wistful minutes 
staring out at the lawn with the fringe of pop- 
lars, and the high road beyond, and thinking 
of the picnic, and wondering what they were 
110 


KITTY LOVE 


doing that minute, and hoping that they were 
having the nicest time a picnic party ever had 
in this world. 

There was a cloud of white, a red streak and 
a piping sound, as a motor car went flying by 
upon the road. Kitty drew a deep breath as 
it passed, and hummed “How lovely!” 

In all their lives the Loves, at least the four 
Love children, had never ridden in an automo- 
bile. They often saw them go by the house 
— queer flashes of red, and black, and grey, 
with glittering brass or nickel trimmings ; they 
had heard the “pump-pmnp” of them, and 
their sudden stops of escaping steam and their 
tooting horns; they had smelled, with deep 
excitement, their horrid gasoline smell, and 
liked it the better for being so strange and un- 
pleasant. In fact, everything about the mys- 
terious and greatly-to-be desired motor-car 
fascinated them. No winged dragon of myth- 
111 


KITTY LOVE 


ical, prehistoric days ever found a more ap- 
preciative and thrilled public than the sundry 
motors that passed Merry Vale on the high 
road. 

While she was still standing there on the 
piazza, gazing out toward the mysterious road 
outside the grounds, and holding the empty 
and dripping green watering pot, she heard 
Becky’s voice from the doorway behind her. 

“If you please. Miss Kitty,” Becky was 
saying, affectionately though respectfully, 
“I’ve gotten a bit of lunch for you, and I was 
thinking — if you wouldn’t mind — maybe you’d 
care to have it in the kitchen with me to-day, — 
being all alone, like.” 

Poor Becky hesitated as she spoke, for she 
was a good servant and never took liberties, 
but with a little rush Kitty ran to her and 
hugged her, overwhelmingly grateful for the 
Idnd and understanding thought. 

112 


KITTY LOVE 


“How nice of you, Becky!” she cried. “Of 
course I’ll love to have lunch with you, — I 
don’t think I could have eaten it in the dining- 
room alone!” 

The very idea caused her voice to choke 
up and immediately Becky looked quite 
alarmed. 

“There now. Miss Kitty, my dear!” she ex- 
claimed hurriedly. “Come out until you see 
what a beautiful little chicken pie I’ve got for 
you, and I don’t know what all! Come on 
out, I say!” 

And she led the way to the kitchen with all 
the pride of a hostess who is also a famous 
cook. 

And do you know, the dear soul had saved 
a little of every single picnic thing for Kitty! 
There was a little pitcher of lemonade, and a 
plateful of egg-sandwiches, besides the beauti- 
ful hot chicken pie especially baked for the 
113 


KITTY LOVE 

occasion. And last but not least, there was a 
big pile of the delicious ginger cakes with 
frosting and raisins and nuts on top. 

Kitty was not hungry and she could not eat 
much luncheon, but it was very nice and soci- 
able with Becky sitting opposite her at the ex- 
quisitely clean little table drinking her tea and 
talking very interestingly about the days when 
she was a little girl. And suddenly, just as 
Kitty was beginning to feel ever so much less 
lonely, there was the queerest noise at the front 
of the house. She dropped a half eaten gin- 
ger cake, and rushed out to see what it could 
possibly be. 

“It sounded,” she said afterward, “like a 
railroad train and a dragon all mixed up 
together!” 

Well, when she got to the front door, she 
stopped short, frozen with surprise. The im- 
possible was happening. An automobile was 
lU 


KITTY LOVE 


coming up the drive! While Kitty was still 
standing rooted to the door sill, it stopped at 
the front steps, and its single occupant sitting 
at the wheel pulled off a queer looking cap and 
called to her, — “Beg pardon, but could I get 
some water here for my machine?” 

“Why, of course!” exclaimed Kitty. 

Oddly enough this had never happened be- 
fore, and she was much flustered, but she was 
always polite and she went hastily in search 
of Braxton. When she returned the automo- 
hilist was standing on the piazza fanning him- 
self with the cap. He had also taken off his 
goggles, and though still swathed in a big 
motor coat enough of him appeared to show 
that he was a nice-looking young man. 

“Will you have a drink of water or any- 
thing?” inquired Kitty shyly, not sure what she 
ought to say to h im . 

“Not even anything!” returned he with a 
115 


KITTY LOVE 


laugh. “I had lunch half an hour ago. But 
my machine will! — ah, here we are!” 

As Braxton appeared with a pail, Kitty 
stood silently by while the two men talked, and 
ministered to the mysterious monster. She 
could hardly take her eyes off it, it was so big, 
and so wonderful, and so ugly — and yet so de- 
lightful! 

She was day-dreaming about racing over 
deserts and mountain-ranges, when she came to 
herself with a start to hear the strange automo- 
bilist speaking to her. 

“I beg your pardon?” she said, hastily think- 
ing as she spoke. 

“I was merely saying,” he said, “that I was 
much obliged.” 

He was looking at her with a pleasant, quiz- 
zical expression that Kitty liked. Somehow 
she felt that he would be an understanding 
person, — and not just nothing hut a grown-up. 

116 


KITTY LOVE 


“Would you like to sit down and rest?” she 
ventured to ask. 

He shook his head, and turned to look over 
the bright green, sun-warmed lawn. Kitty 
looked too, and there was silence. 

“It’s a bully day,” said the stranger, wip- 
ing his forehead enthusiastically. 

“Yes, isn’t it?” said Kitty, sympathetically 
responsive. 

“Fine day for a picnic.” 

“A picnic!” Kitty’s blue-grey eyes re- 
proached him in an agonised fashion, and he 
became horribly conscience-stricken without in 
the least knowing why. 

“I — er — don’t you think it would be a good 
day for a picnic?” he said humbly. 

“Yes.” She ventured the one word, though 
her chin was quivering. 

“It seems to me,” proceeded the young man 
more cheerfully, “that it’s just about the one 
117 


KITTY LOVE 


right day for a jamboree in the woods. Hot, 
and yet not stifling you know ; and not a chance 
of rain. And a lot of green things, and a 
brook somewhere — ” he waved a large hand 
vaguely, — “and things to eat, and plenty of 
shade, you know, and no hurry about any- 
thing, and a jolly crowd — ” 

He was talking half to himself, and had al- 
most forgotten the little girl at his side. But 
the picture he drew was too much for Kitty. 
About the middle of it all she sat down sud- 
denly in one of the big wicker piazza chairs 
and began to cry. 

“Hey!” exclaimed the stranger suddenly, 
turning to stare at her. “Oh, I say you know, 
little girl! — Really — I — ” 

“I — c-c-can’t help it!” wept Kitty. “It was 
your talking about the picnic!” 

“Oh, it was that, was it?” said the strange 
young man, still with a puzzled air. He sat 
118 


KITTY LOVE 


down in another wicker chair as he spoke. 
“Suppose you tell me about it?” he suggested. 
“How would that be?” 

So Kitty told him about it, very simply and 
naturally, and in a minute or two she had en- 
tirely stopped crying and was waxing quite 
excited over poor Florrie and her hard life. 

“I see,” said the young man, nodding slowly. 
“Do you mind if I smoke?” 

“Oh, no!” said Kitty, charmed to be asked; 
— it made her feel so grown up and young- 
ladyfied. “Papa and Uncle Mark always do!” 

“By the way,” said the young man, “what 
are your papa’s and your Uncle Mark’s other 
names? I almost forgot to ask, and that 
would be bad form!” 

“Papa is John Clifford Love,” said Kitty, 
“and Uncle Mark’s last name is Alden. So 
was Mamma’s.” 

“Mark Alden!” exclaimed the stranger. 

119 


KITTY LOVE 


“Why, he’s the man I came down here to see. 
I’m an old friend of his and his family’s. And 
I remember he had a sister, — she was Kather- 
ine Alden.” 

“That’s Mamma!” cried Kitty. 

“Well, this is funny! Then you are — ” 

“I’m Kitty Love,” said his hostess. 

“Well, Miss Kitty Love,” said the strange 
young man, putting on his motor-goggles, 
“suppose you and I go to the picnic?” 

Of course there’s no use trying to describe 
what Kitty’s feelings were. If she had really 
meant to protest the young man would have 
had none of it. He wanted to see her Uncle 
Mark, and her mother, and he wanted to go 
to a picnic, and why shouldn’t they go 
together? 

“And you can show me the way,” he ex- 
plained. 

So Kitty raced like a whirlwind up to the 
120 


KITTY LOVE 


nursery, seized her best hat trimmed with 
roses, tried to explain to Nurse Ann, and left 
her spluttering disapproval and bewilderment 
to race back again and gasp, “I’m ready!” 

“That’s right!” exclaimed the stranger. 
“Jump in, — ^take care of the wheel; — aright 
you are!” 

He began to crank up, while Kitty sat quiv- 
ering with joy and expectation. Oh, it was — 
it must he too good to be true! Surely she 
would wake up in one minute, and find that 
it had all been a dream! 

The stranger climbed in, and Kitty saw 
Nurse Ann, Braxton and Becky gazing with 
startled and excited faces from the front win- 
dows as the big machine moved slowly off. 
She waved to them recklessly. She couldn’t 
even take time to explain to them; — she was 
having an Adventure! 

“Now, then,” said the stranger, turning the 
121 


KITTY LOVE 


wheel deftly, as the big car gathered speed 
and swung quivering out into the road, “which 
way do we go?” 

The picnickers had begun lunch a good deal 
later than Kitty, and they were still eating 
when a queer puffing and snorting was heard 
in the little country road that led past the dell. 
Then they caught a joyous shout, and looking 
up they saw through a green vista a big red 
touring car slowing up, and on the front seat 
beside the driver was Kitty Love, who had 
come to the picnic after all! 




THE STORY OF THE MAGIC 
LOTUS BULB 


Fairy lilies, rose and blue, 

They are not for me or you; — 

Fairy signs but greet our sight 
When we are asleep at night. 

But pinks and lilacs are as fair 
As anything the fairies wear. 

And water lilies in the sun 
Are good enough for any on^\ 

The Flower Lover. 


CHAPTER VII 


THE STORY OF THE MAGIC LOTUS BULB 

The picnic part of the day was over and the 
six children had wandered off through the 
woods with Uncle Mark. 

As the shadows were lengthening they sat 
down hy a clear pool made hy an eddy in the 
hurrying stream. In the distance they could 
see the lake, blue through the trees. 

“Ah!” said Uncle Mark, throwing his hat 
on the grass and leaning hack against a tree- 
trunk with a deep sigh: “TMs is the best 
thing going!” 

“What?” demanded Chris. 

“Peace,” said his uncle. “Look at those pale 
flowers near the edge of the stream, Kitty! 

125 


KITTY LOVE 


What are they,- — Trilium? They are nearly 
as white as lotus lilies.” 

Kitty jumped at the word. 

“Lotus lilies!” she repeated. “Oh, Uncle 
Mark, you promised to tell us the story of the 
Magic Lotus Bulb you gave Mamma! Do it 
now. Don’t you love fairy stories, Florrie?” 
she added. Her happy face fell, for she could 
see by Florrie’s expression that she didn’t. 
“Do tell it. Uncle Mark!” she repeated, how- 
ever, and “Oh, do!” they all begged him. 

“It’s a rather dull little story,” objected 
Uncle Mark, “and I can only tell it to you as 
the old Jap who gave the bulb to me told it, 
but if you really want it — ^here goes.” 

Then in a low, dreamy sort of voice that 
seemed to mix in very pleasantly with the mur- 
mur of the stream and the wind in the woods 
about them, he told them the story of the Magic 
Lotus Bulb; 


126 


KITTY LOVE 


“Once upon a time there was a little boy who 
lived on the shore of a round blue lake in 
Japan, and picked lotus flowers. He was a 
strange little boy, rather shy, and very grave 
for his age, for he was being educated to be a 
priest of Buddha when he should be grown 
up. He gathered the lotus lilies every season 
and carried them to the temple to the Bonze 
or High Priest, and the Bonze took the lilies 
and wove them into a white wreath and hung 
them about the neck of the great silver image 
of Buddha which stood for ever on the altar of 
the Temple. 

“The little boy was a great dreamer, which 
is as it should he, for the lotus lily is the flower 
of dreams, and he had curious fancies about 
the lilies he gathered from the surface of the 
quiet blue water of the river. Sometimes they 
seemed to him like white butterflies resting 
with folded wings; sometimes like doves such 
121 


KITTY LOVE 


as he had heard cooing in the minarets of the 
Shintu Monastery; sometimes like the spirits 
which had drifted back from the Meido, the 
Land of the Hereafter, floating on the slow- 
moving River of Souls. 

“He wore a blue cotton kimono, did the 
little boy, and sandals, and the top of his head 
was shaved. And he lived on rice and flsh 
cooked on a stone in the sun; and at night he 
slept in a room made out of bamboo-screens or 
shogie with his head on a hard round support 
instead of a pillow. And by day he looked at 
the far white mountain peak called Fujiyama, 
and picked lotus flowers for the Bonze. 

“Well, one night he had a more wonderful 
dream than any that his lotus blooms had ever 
brought him before. He dreamed that the 
Spirit of the Lotus Flowers came to visit him 
walking on the silver water of the little round 
lake. And she was exceedingly beautiful, with 
128 


KITTY LOVE 

stars for hair ornaments and the sweetest smile 
imaginable, and her kimono was all of white 
and her obi of silver moonshine. 

“ ‘Honourable little boy!’ said the Spirit of 
Lotus Blooms, ‘you have given up your eight 
years of life to taking care of my flowers, and 
I should like to make you a present. What 
shall it be?’ 

“ ‘Oh, August One,’ said the little boy (for 
like all Japanese children he never forgot to 
be respectful to everyone), ‘I should like — the 
bulb of a lotus flower that will bloom every 
year as long as I live!’ 

“So the Spirit held out her hand and a star 
fell into it, and as soon as she touched it, the 
star turned into a lily bulb that shone very 
brightly, and the lady gave it to the little boy, 
saying: 

“ ‘The first year that it blooms you shall 
know happiness ; and the second year you shall 
129 


KITTY LOVE 


know hope; and the third year you shall know 
wealth. But after that time I cannot tell you 
what the blooms will bring, so if you are afraid 
of the future you would better destroy the bulb 
after the third year.’ 

“Then she disappeared, and the little boy 
woke up, and he was sitting in his night shirt 
on the banks of the lake where he had wandered 
in his sleep, and he would have thought it all a 
dream like other dreams had he not found that 
he still held the bulb of a lotus lily in his hand. 

“He got a bowl of blue pottery and planted 
the lotus bulb in it with plenty of water, 
which he changed every day, and the first year 
the lotus fiower bloomed a lovely pink! — Never 
was seen such a lotus fiower! People came 
from far and wide to look at it, and the Bonzes 
shook their heads solemnly, and said, Tt is 
a miracle! He is a very holy little boy, 
chosen by the gods for very particular favours!’ 

130 


KITTY LOVE 


And, sure enough, the Lotus Spirit’s word was 
kept, for that first year was a wonderfully glad 
one for the little boy’s family. His brother 
came home from the war, and there was feasting 
and great joy. Then the second year came 
around, and the lotus flower that bloomed was 
as blue as the sky, — ^the colour of hope, just as 
the Spirit had said. And at this time, there 
came a message from the Mikado who had 
heard of the little boy and his magic lotus bulb, 
and wished him to go to court and bring good 
fortime to the Imperial household. 

“So the little boy and the lotus bulb with 
its sky blue flower were put in a beautiful gold- 
inlaid rickshaw and journeyed to Tokio where 
the Emperor’s palace was. He was received 
most royally and given beautiful robes, and 
the Emperor himself talked to him and 
did him honour, and came to look at the lotus 
flower. 


131 


KITTY LOVE 


“ ‘Little boy/ said His August Majesty 
when he had heard the whole story, ‘there is 
clearly only one more year of good fortune for 
your lotus bloom, and after that no one will 
he brave enough to keep it, but for one year it 
appears to he a charm against misfortune. 
Now, you are a poor lad and I am rich, and 
perhaps you will sell me your lotus to bring 
me good luck in this next year of my reign; — 
for to be honest with you,’ added the Emperor, 
‘the Imperial affairs are not going so well as 
they might!’ 

‘Honourable and exalted Master,’ said the 
little boy humbly, ‘if you will augustly cut off 
my head, I shall be gratefully willing, for my 
life is my Emperor’s. But honourably allow 
me to keep my lotus bulb, for it is my gift 
from the Spirit of the Lotus Flowers, and my 
destiny!’ 

“ ‘Oh, well,’ said the Mikado with a sigh, ‘of 
132 


KITTY LOVE 


course if you must, you must! But you will 
have to stay at court, and then whatever good 
fortune your flower brings to you will benefit 
the rest of us as well!’ 

“So the little boy stayed at court, and the 
Mikado gave him money and jewellery and 
wonderful things to eat, and when the follow- 
ing year came round the lotus bloomed as yel- 
low as bright gold. 

“Meanwhile the little boy’s family, and the 
priests of the temple down by the little round 
blue lake in the country, were feeling very sad 
because the little boy did not come back, and 
they said prayers to Buddha for his welfare 
and for his safe return, and whenever travel- 
lers would return from Tokio they would ask 
eagerly for news of the Emperor’s favourite 
with the magic lotus. And their hearts grew 
very heavy, for it seemed as though the little 
hoy had forgotten his old home and friends and 
133 


KITTY LOVE 


the temple where he was to have been a priest 
when he should be grown up. 

“And so another year went by; and one 
day when the old Bonze was down by the 
shore of the round blue lake pulling up 
the lotus lilies from the water to weave into 
white garlands for the silver statue of Bud- 
dha in the temple, he heard a light pat- 
tering step beside him. He turned and 
there was the little boy, in his old blue cot- 
ton kimono which had grown rather too small 
for him, carefully carrying his pottery bowl 
in which the lotus was growing. 

“And the bloom that year was black! 

“ ‘Honourable father,’ said the little boy 
rather wearily, for he had walked all the way 
from Tokio, ‘I have come back. They all 
turned from me after the black bloom came on 
the bulb. They counselled me to fling it away ; 
even the Spirit bade me do that, in the begin- 
134 ! 


KITTY LOVE 


ning, if I feared the future. And when I 
would not, they in the Mikado’s Palaee cast 
me out. But Honourable Father, I would not 
throw away the black bloom simply because it 
stands for disappointment and ill fortune. It 
is my destiny, and I will keep it,’ said the little 
boy. 

“The old priest meditated gravely. Then 
he said, ‘Honourable small one, it is borne in 
upon me that you are right. We will take the 
black flower as an offering to the God Buddha.’ 

“ ‘Nay,’ said the little boy obstinately, ‘I 
shall keep it in the blue pottery bowl, and tend 
it as usual. But I will gather the flowers for 
your wreaths, just as I used to, most Hon- 
oured Father and Priest!’ 

“So he set down his bowl and went to work 
pulling the wet sweet lihes from the surface 
of the round blue lake. 

“ It is strange,” he said dreamily, ‘that white, 
135 


KITTY LOVE 


the natural colour of lotus blooms, is the only 
hue that my lotus has not worn.’ 

“ ‘It is not at all strange,’ said the old priest 
wisely. ‘White is the colour of peace, and 
when you have learned to be peaceful and con- 
tented with peaceful things, perhaps your 
lotus will give you a white bloom.’ 

“Then for a year and a day the little boy 
worked and prayed and dreamed by the shores 
of the round blue lake and before the great sil- 
ver image of Buddha in the temple. And at 
night he dreamed sometimes of the glitter of the 
splendour of the Mikado’s court, and by day 
he looked at Fujiyama shining in the sun. 
And one morning he went to the old Bonze and 
he said: 

“ ‘Honourable one, take me in and teach 
me wisdom, for I have seen the wide world, 
and I like better the shadow of the temple and 
the wind upon the lake.’ 

136 


KITTY LOVE 


“And during that night the lotus bloomed 
again, and the bloom was white, which is the 
colour of peace.” 

Uncle Mark stopped. The sun had gone 
down, and it was time to start for home. 


137 




RED INDIANS 


I have a little lantern 

That hangs inside my head; 
It makes the grey days golden, 
And lights my little bed. 

It throws the sweetest radiance 
That only I can see, 

And makes a hoop of shadows 
That dance so charmingly! 

It lights me to the prairies, 
Where Indians are riding, 

It lights me o’er the ocean 
With pirate ships a-gliding — 
It even lights my footsteps 
Unto the Fairy Nation, — 

But Mother says it’s only 
My Strong Imagination ! 


Make-Believe. 


CHAPTER VIII 


RED INDIANS 

The children were playing in the far end of 
the apple orchard, on a sultry and close after- 
noon in August. Dull mutterings of thunder 
sounded occasionally, and Mamma had ad- 
vised them to keep near the house in case of a 
sudden shower. Kitty, Midge and Grace 
Marchmont were sitting on the grass, fanning 
each other with rather limp plantain leaves 
and watching the hoys’ energetic preparations 
for the next game. They did not join in the 
preparations because they were not perfectly 
sure that they were expected to join in the 
amusement. Boys were such queer things, and 
had such positive notions about what games 
141 


KITTY LOVE 


girls were to be allowed to play with them, 
and what they weren’t! 

“Now, I’ll tell you,” said Ned Marchmont, 
“we’ll have a real Red Indian game!” 

“Goody!” crowed Tad, dancing till his 
sailor collar flapped in the breeze. “Goody! 
Goody! Goody! Thall I he a Wed Injun, 
with a tomow-hook?” 

“Sure,” said Ned, “unless you’d rather he 
one of the prisoners. You’d make a very nice 
prisoner,” he added, looking the Tadpole over 
critically. But Taddie was firm. 

“No/” he squealed, “a Wed Injun with a 
tomow-hook!” And he opened his mouth to 
howl. 

“Right you are!” said Ned hurriedly. He 
was the leader in most of their games, and 
a very capable, masterful lad, but even 
he quailed before the strength of Tad’s 
lungs. 


KITTY LOVE 


“Where’th the tomow-hook” said Tad, com- 
ing down to business promptly. 

“You have to make your own ‘tomow-hook,’ 
as you call it,” said Chris. “You take a stick 
of kindling, — so, and you cut a slit in the end 
of it, sOj and then you stick a piece of card 
board in the slit, — and there you are.” He 
held up an impressive looking weapon, and Tad 
gazed at it admiringly. 

“It’th beaukiful,” he declared gravely. 
“Chrithty make my tomow-hook, too?” and he 
smiled a sly, beguiling smile. 

“Oh, bother!” grumbled Chris. “I suppose 
I’ll have to!” 

He was at an age when little things seem a 
lot of trouble. However, he was kind hearted, 
and he went to work on his little brother’s toma- 
hawk forthwith. 

At the “tomow-hook” junction, however, 
Kitty ventured to put in a word. 

143 


KITTY LOVE 


“I’ll make the Tadpole’s tommyhawk, 
Chris,” she offered. “I’ve nothing to do.” 

“Well,” said Chris, handing over the mate- 
rials, “as long as you don’t cut yourself. Girls 
always do! And don’t go and lose my jack- 
knife in the grass, either!” he added sternly. 

“Chris Love,” said Kitty, whittling away, 
“I’ve used a knife just as long as you have!” 

“You haven’t, either!” exclaimed Christo- 
pher indignantly. “We weren’t either of us 
let to cut with real knives till we were seven, 
and I was seven long before you.” 

“But,” said Kitty, with entire good humour 
but making a little face at him, “Mamma let 
me have a knife a year ahead, ’cause I was so 
carefuir 

There was a general shout at this. 

“You careful!” cried Gracie Marchmont. 
“Why, Kit! you’re the most careless girl I 
know!” 


KITTY LOVE 


Kitty laughed cheerfully, shut up the jack- 
knife so it couldn’t cut anybody, and tossed it 
across to Chris. 

“Good throw!” said Ned Marchmont. 

“I suppose,” said Christopher, “you girls 
will want to play too?” 

“Of course!” cried Gracie eagerly, jumping 
up. “You just watch me scalp Tad!” and 
she made a dive at the little boy, who ran 
out of reach shrieking with pretended 
terror. 

“I’ll teU you what,” suggested Ned, “why 
can’t the girls be the prisoners?” 

“And we’ll chase them across the prairies!” 
shouted Chris, waving a tomahawk. 

“It’s so hot!” complained Gracie. “Oh, I 
know, we’ll travel in a stage coach!” 

“Chris’s old express waggon!” cried Kitty. 
“And the boys can be the horses.” 

"‘Talking of its being so hot!” said Ned 
14.5 


KITTY LOVE 


rather ruefully. “Do you see yourself being 
a horse to-day, Chris?” 

“Well,” said Chris, thinking it over, “I’m 
willing to be a horse if they’ll break down in a 
wild canon, and then let us be a tribe of savage 
braves and capture them.” 

“Splendid!” exclaimed Kitty, with a deli- 
cious shudder. 

“And we will burn them at the stake!” 
growled Ned, looking very fierce and blood- 
thirsty. 

“Will I be burned at the thtake too?” asked 
Midge excitedly. 

“Well, rather!” 

“And wide in the expweth waggon? — and 
evewything?” 

“Everything,” laughed Ned, “express wag- 
gon, break down, capture, burning — all the 
amusements of the season! Where’s the ex- 
press waggon, Kitty?” 

146 


KITTY LOVE 


At the farther end of the orchard was a ra- 
vine which was the joy of the children’s lives. 
It was not a very big one, but it was quite large 
enough to have thrilling games in; — they them- 
selves had made paths winding along its steep 
sides, and stepping stones in the little stream 
that threaded its way through the bottom. The 
trees grew close together, it was always cool 
and shady there, and never in this world was 
there anything so exciting as hide and seek in 
the Merry Vale ravine. 

By mutual consent the six children agreed 
that the canon must be the ravine, and that the 
capture by the Indians must take place in its 
mysterious and thrilling depths. There was 
one good path that ledi down the nearest side, — 
and down here the two older boys, as prancing 
steeds, dashed gallantly, hauling the three little 
girls in a very rickety old express waggon, 
which Tad ran shouting behind. If you have 
147 


KITTY LOVE 


never tried being dragged headlong down an 
up-and-down path in a vehicle which never went 
on more than two wheels at once, you have 
never known the real thrill of adventure. It 
is, you may take my word for it, one of the most 
remarkable experiences possible, and Grade 
and Kitty were worked up to such a pitch of 
excitement that they hardly minded at all when 
the inevitable happened, and they all rolled 
down the bank in a general heap. Fortunately 
they were already nearly at the bottom and no 
one was hurt at all, — ^not even Midge, who, 
when she had cried loudly a minute purely out 
of habit, sat up interestedly and declared her- 
self “weddy” to go on. 

In two minutes the wrecked stage coach was 
surrounded by howling savages, who had big 
leaves stuck in their hair instead of feathers, 
and waved their tomahawks in a very menacing 
fashion. The three girls were boxmd straight- 
148 


KITTY LOVE 


way with stout string to saplings, and the Red 
Indians danced a fearful and wonderful war- 
dance about them with occasional whoops to 
make it more exciting. 

They were beginning to get tired of the play, 
and would probably have stopped peaceably 
enough in another moment if a big growl of 
thunder hadn’t interrupted things in an exceed- 
ingly sudden manner. 

“There! It is going to rain,” exclaimed 
Kitty from her “stake,” “and Mamma said we 
mustn’t go far from the house! Hurry, Chris, 
and get the twins home before it really 
beg;ins !” 

A big drop fell on her upturned face as she 
spoke. 

“Oh, it’s coming! It’s come!” cried Gracie. 
“Come and cut the string, Ned. I hate get- 
ting wet!” 

Ned and Chris both had their jack-knives 
149 


KITTY LOVE 

out, and in a moment both Grace and Midge 
were free. 

“You cut Kitty’s strings,” shouted Chris as 
he hurried his small brother and sister away. 
A big clap of thunder drowned the words; a 
sudden wild downpour of rain blurred every- 
thing and bewildered the children. Ned 
thought Chris had set Kitty free, and Chris 
was perfectly content in the conviction that 
Ned had seen to it. So it happened that no- 
body cut her bonds at all, and the others fled 
home frantically through the thunderstorm and 
left her tied to the sapling in the ravine alone, 
— a really-truly captive this time! 

At flrst poor Kitty could not believe the 
awful truth. 

“Chris! — Ned! — 'Gracie!” she called wildly 
after them, but the crashing thunder made it 
hopeless, and she stopped, hoping that someone 
would remember her on the way home and come 
150 


KITTY LOVE 


back. As a matter of fact it was not imtil they 
had all gotten into the nursery, and half out of 
their clothes, and Nurse Ann had said “Where 
is Miss Kitty?” that anyone realised that she 
had not come with them. 

The rain poured down into the ravine in tor- 
rents. Kitty ducked her head to keep the wa- 
ter from getting into her eyes, and even then 
she could feel it soaking through her hair and 
down the back of her neck. She thought of 
the way she watered her flowers and wondered 
if it felt like this, and if they could possibly 
like it ! She had never gotten wet through be- 
fore, except in her bath tub, and she found it a 
very queer feeling — just at the very first it was 
rather nice ; she was hot, and the cool little soft 
drops were quite refreshing and pleasant. But 
as it came harder and harder, and colder and 
colder, she found it hard to realise that it was 
really August and an unusually hot August 
151 


KITTY LOVE 


into the bargain. She began to get shivery, 
and then really a little too cold, and then chilled 
through; and then, though she tried to be brave, 
she found two tears forcing themselves out of 
her eyes and down her cheeks. She noticed 
that the tears were warm, — ^the only warm thing 
about her at present! 

“I wonder,” thought poor Kitty, “if the 
Christian martyrs were very much more uncom- 
fortable than this?” 

And with that thought came a funny little 
feeling of comfort. It is rather a difficult feel- 
ing to describe — it’s a sort of comradeship of 
suffering — do you know what I mean? Let 
me see if I can explain. When you are sick, 
or disappointed, or have hurt yourself, the very 
hardest part of it is that you have to bear it 
alone, isn’t it? — ^that no one else can possibly 
understand how wretched you are? Well, 
once in a while you remember all the other peo- 
153 


KITTY LOVE 


pie who are suffering and have 'suffered ex- 
actly as you are, and felt the same loneliness, — 
and suddenly you don’t feel so much alone! 
That is what I mean by the comradeship of suf- 
fering; and that’s why even thinking of the 
Christian martyrs made it easier for Kitty to 
bear her discomfort. 

“Let’s see,” said she, speaking aloud, and 
finding it more cheerful to think that way just 
now, “let’s see if I can remember who the book 
people were who got wet through, and were 
nice about it! Well, there was Andromeda, 
lashed by the waves, and she, — ^yes, she was 
chained, like me! Poor dear, she must have 
hated it! And a dragon coming too! That 
must have been even worse. I wonder how it 
would feel to be Andromeda, and sacrifieed to 
save your people? Of course Perseus was 
coming to rescue her, though she didn’t know 
that. But I suppose, being a Greek and a 
153 


KITTY LOVE 


king’s daughter, she was very brave. I won- 
der how you could show you were brave, 
chained to a rock in the wet ? — I know ! You’d 
he cheerful! Maybe she sang. I don’t know 
any Greek songs, but — ^yes, I do. I’ll sing 
‘Down, Troy, Down! Old Troy’s on Fire!’ ” 

And Kitty lifted a rather quavering voice 
and sang in the rain. She got quite absorbed 
playing she was Andromeda, and when five 
minutes later Ned Marchmont, followed by 
Chris, both very white and scared and con- 
science-stricken, dashed down into the ravine, 
she greeted them with a dramatic cry of “Res- 
cue! At last! Oh, greeting!” 

“Oh, Kitty, I’m so sorry!” gasped Ned, pull- 
ing out his knife and cutting the string with 
hands that shook. “We forgot all about you! 
It was simply horrible of us! Can you ever, 
ever forgive us?” 

“Oh, Ned,” cried the freed captive, shaking 
154 


KITTY LOVE 

wet hair out of her eyes, “don’t spoil it all! 
Don’t you see I’m playing I’m Andromeda? 
And you are Perseus, come to rescue me from 
the dragon and seething waves!” 

Ned and Chris stood and stared at the drip- 
ping little figure and eager face. 

“Well, there’s one thing,” said Ned bluntly, 
“you — you’re just a brick, Kitty Love !” 



166 


FLORRIE’S SICKNESS 


Shadows walking, — round the room, 

Shadows talking, — in the gloom, — 

Are you real, as it seems. 

Or nothing but my fever dreams? 

Ladies singing, bright and fair, 

Angels winging through the air. 

Lions roaring by my bed. 

Cool rain pouring on my head, — 

Though I ^e you all, I know 
Not a single thing is so! 

All have just one reason why: — 

It’s cause my temperature’s so high! 

The Child in Fever. 


CHAPTER IX 


floerie’s sickness 

Kitty came out onto the piazza one morning 
after breakfast, and found her mother talking 
to Braxton very earnestly. As Kitty slipped 
her hand through her arm, Mrs. Love turned 
with a tender look in her eyes, but her face was 
still grave. 

“Mamma, is anything the matter?” asked 
Kitty anxiously. 

Mrs. Love! did not answer immediately. She 
only patted the hand that lay on her arm and 
said, “Did you sleep well, dear?” 

“Why, yes. Mamma, — I always do,” smiled 
Kitty. “Oh, Mamma, are you going to water 
the piazza garden? Please let me help!” 

They always called the window boxes, tubs, 
169 


KITTY LOVE 


and flower pots the “piazza garden,” and these 
plants Mrs. Love cared for herself. 

“Look at those morning glories!” said 
Mamma softly, “did you ever see anything so 
lovely?” And then she quoted the delightful 
and celebrated rooster, Chantecler, who said 
that his eyes had grown so roimd and bright, 
“gazing in wonder at a morning glory.” 

“They say,” added Mamma as she watered 
the fuschias and moved one of the little pots 
out of the early sun, “that the morning glories 
are the fairies’ trumpets. Can’t you imagine 
the small elves sounding them, the first thing 
at dawn, just as the sun comes up?” 

“Oh, yes !” said Kitty softly, with very wide 
eyes. She could always imagine an5dhing that 
had to do with the fairy folk. Something made 
her think of Florrie, the poor little waif who 
had been her “guest” at the picnic, and she 
added, “Isn’t it dreadful. Mamma, that Florrie 
160 


KITTY liOVE 

doesn’t believe in fairies? — at least,” she cor- 
rected herself, “I think she doesn’t.” 

“Well,” said Mamma, though the mention 
of Florrie’s name had made her look grave 
again, — “neither do you!” 

“N-no,” said Kitty doubtfully. “I don’t 
with my head, mummy, — ^but I do with my 
heart!” 

Mamma carefully emptied the last drops 
from the watering pot into a big green tub that 
held a hydrangea. 

“Braxton was just telling me about little 
Florrie,” said she quietly. “She is very ill, it 
seems.” 

Kitty nearly cried. 

“Oh, Mamma!” she said. “What is it? 
Can’t I go to see her right away?” 

“I’m afraid not, Kitty. She has scarlet 
fever.” 

“Oh! And that is catching, isn’t it?” 

161 


KITTY LOVE 


“Very catching, dear.” 

“Oh, poor, poor Florrie. And she had such 
a horrid time anyway — and now to have scarlet 
fever! Mummy darling, can’t — can’t I do 
something?” 

“What do you want to do?” asked Mamma, 
sitting down and putting her arm around Kitty 
as she stood beside her. 

“I — I don’t know,” said the little girl rather 
forlornly. “Oh, it’s mis^ able to be — ^to be — ” 

“Helpless?” suggested Mrs. Love, and Kitty 
nodded eagerly, brushing away her gathering 
tears. “My little Kitty, it is miserable to feel 
helpless when people are sick or in trouble! 
But you must try not to grieve too much about 
Florrie. After all, dear, you had only seen her 
that once; it isn’t as if she were a great 
friend.” 

“No, Mamma,” said Kitty, hesitating as she 
tried to express a feeling she had, “but I feel 
162 


KITTY LOVE 


as if she ought to have been a friend, only — 
only I was forgetful about it!” 

Mamma smiled tenderly. 

“I imderstand,” she said in her comforting 
way, “but don’t reproach yourself, my Kitty. 
And don’t worry too much about the poor little 
girl now. The district nurse. Miss Manning, 
is looking out for her. I have told Braxton to 
take a big basket of milk and soup and fresh 
eggs over to the cottage where she and her 
father live, and Papa will telephone our own 
good Dr. McLean to go to see her himself. 
Does that make you happier?” 

“Yes! But I want to do something,” said 
Kitty, with a quivering lip. “Mamma, do you 
think if I picked a lot of our very loveliest 
flowers — ” 

“I think it would be very nice indeed,” said 
Mrs. Love warmly, smothering a moment’s re- 
gret for her carefully cultivated garden. 

163 


KITTY LOVE 


“And, Mamma,” Kitty was breathless with 
eagerness, “please mightn’t I go to see her — ” 
Mrs. Love shook her head and she added 
quickly — ’“from a distance, miimmy love — from 
a long distance?” 

“But Kitty,” said Mrs. Love gently, “how 
could you go to see Florrie from a distance? 
Her father’s cottage is very small, and Flor- 
rie’s room has probably only one door and that 
door is near the bed. I should be very much 
afraid to have you even go into the house.” 

Kitty considered this for a moment or two. 
Then she looked up at her mother with a plead- 
ing look in her blue-grey eyes that were so like 
Mrs. Love’s own. 

“Mamma,” she said, “if I promise you not to 
go into thie house, may I please go and see 
Florrie?” 

Mrs. Love looked greatly mystified, but she 
knew that she could trust Kitty. 

164 . 


KITTY LOVE 


“Yes, if you promise not to go inside the 
house,” she said. 

“Oh, thank you. Mamma!” cried her little 
daughter, her face clearing wonderfully. Then 
she ran away. 

Florrie was dreadfully uncomfortable. 

Her fever made her light-headed, and every 
shadow on the wall looked twice as big as it 
really was. Her father, a big rough man, 
hardly ever came near her, but the district nurse 
had her in charge and treated her so sweetly 
and gently that poor Florrie’s feverish fancy 
painted the lady in the white uniform as “a 
angel.” And good Dr. McLean had called in 
the afternoon and been so cheery and jolly and 
friendly that her heart would have been com- 
forted if she had been well enough to really 
care what was said to her.. 

Now she lay alone tossing and muttering and 
165 


KITTY LOVE 


wondering why she felt so heavy and achy all 
over, and why her head throbbed so hard. 

Suddenly a very soft little voice called to her 
from somewhere outside the open window. 

“Florrie, — Oh, Florrie!” 

Florrie turned stupidly and stared in the 
direction of the voice. 

An old apple tree grew just outside the cot- 
tage, and one of its twisted boughs pulled out 
close to the window of her little room. Sitting 
on the bough and leaning far forward so that 
she could peer into the room sat Kitty Love! 

“Hello,” said Florrie weakly. Her surprise 
cleared her brain for the moment. She was 
able to talk almost as though she had no fever 
and no feverish fancies. 

“Oh, Florrie, I’m so sorry you’re sick,” cried 
Kitty softly, nearly falling off the branch 
in her earnestness. “Do you feel very 
badly?”. 


166 



^‘.Florric, — Oh, P'lorrie !” 











H. 


% 


i 


t. --r •' 1 I 


V' 


iT^‘- ,■ • I'rO:' ‘ : *1 f .fSf 1 .•, 



KITTY LOVE 


“Sort of,” said Florrie, turning her flushed 
face to a cooler part of thei pillow. 

“What does it feel like?” asked Kitty, who 
had once had diphtheria and was curious to 
compare notes. 

“Like — ^like — ” Florrie cast about for a 
simile. “Like you had a Jack-in-the-hox 
spring in your head, and it kept goin’ off, — all 
funny like, — ^when you didn’t want it to.” 

“Why, that’s just it!” cried Kitty apprecia- 
tively, clapping her hands. “I felt just like 
that in my head, only I called it frogs jumping 
up and down!” 

Florrie’s momentary interest and clearness 
of mind had faded. She had begun to toss and 
scowl once more, and she kept muttering under 
her breath bits of meaningless sentences that 
had no ending. Kitty watched her in troubled 
silence for a moment, longing to cross the for- 
bidden window sill and try to make her more 
167 


KITTY LOVE 


comfortable. But she had promised Mamma. 
Promised! To disobey was bad enough, but 
to break a promise! — why, no one, Kitty firmly 
believed, could be as wicked as that. She 
heaved a deep sigh and drew back the foot she 
had involuntarily put onto the window sill. 

“Florrie!” she called softly. 

But Florrie was counting the shadows that 
danced across the wall at the end of her bed. 
One, two, three; one, two, three, four; she tried 
to check them off on her thin little fingers, but 
grew too tired and fell into a restless sleep, 
moaning and moaning whenever she moved on 
the narrow little bed. 

“Oh, Florrie, — Florrie dear!” whispered 
Kitty, “I so terribly wish I could do something 
for you — you do know that, don’t you?” 

She didn’t expect Florrie to answer, and she 
was just preparing to climb down from the 
apple tree branch when she caught, quite 
168 


KITTY LOVE 


clearly, a little sentence from the sick room, — 
spoken in the thick, fretful voice of fever: 

“Ain’t no use tellin’ me there’s fairies. I’ve 
never seed one anyhow, though I’ve tried to, 
hard enough!” 

The voice died away into muttering and 
Kitty slipped down out of the tree, with her 
eyes full of tears. PoorFlorrie! So she had 
wanted to see and believe in fairies in spite of 
making fun of them. 

It was on the way home that a simply mar- 
vellous idea came to Kitty. When it came to 
her she stood still in the middle of a field and 
jumped up and down, and she declared very 
solemnly to a rabbit whose long ears flapped 
at her from behind a stubble of cut com: 

“Bunny, I’ve just the wonderfulest notion 
you’ve ever thought of in all your bom days, 
so there!” 

Then she ran homeward as fast as she could 
169 


KITTY LOVE 


go. She could hardly wait to get into the house 
and up to her mother’s room. It was a dear 
place. Mamma’s morning room, where she 
sewed and wrote and attended to household 
orders. The children thought that it looked 
just the way a princess’s should look, though 
in truth it was very simple, and inexpensively 
furnished. Everything about it was grey and 
lavender, — Mamma’s two favourite colours, 
and there was a wistaria border on the walls, 
and a dove-coloured carpet on the floor. In 
the middle of it was the little Mamma herself, 
dressed in white to-day, sitting at her pretty 
work-table, and stitching away at a gingham 
pinafore for Midge, with the soft wind blowing 
in at the open window and rufiling her fair hair 
ever so little. 

“Why, Kitty!” said she, looking up with the 
•welcoming look in her eyes that mothers always 
have, — “where have you been so long?” 

170 


KITTY LOVE 


“I’ve been to see Florrie!” said Kitty, sitting 
down in a breathless heap at her mother’s feet, 
“and — ” Mrs. Love looked suddenly serious, 
and rather distressed — “Oh, Mamma,” Kitty 
hastened to add, “I didn't go into the house! 
You surely knew I wouldn’t? But I sat in the 
apple tree and talked to her, and she wants to 
see a fairy, and — and — ” Kitty clasped her 
hands, “I’ve the most splendid idea that I know 
will make her well, certain, — sure, — ^if only you 
will help I” 


171 



FLORRIE AND THE FAIRY 


Vm a fairy, swift of wing 
I have come a-visiting; 

Who I am, and how I go. 

You must never seek to know. 

Just take the little gifts I bring; 

For does it matter really where 
I have come from? — do you care? 

I’m a fairy, as you see. 

Well supplied with witchery: 

Dainty food and flowers rare. 

Everything that’s blithe and fair ; 

Aren’t you glad to welcome me? 

And if hy day a dream it seem. 

At least it is a fairy dream! 

The Visiting Fairy. 


CHAPTER X 


FLOERIE AND THE FAIRY 

Miss Manning, the district nurse, was a pleas- 
ant, brisk young woman who had learned to get 
the greatest possible amount of work done in 
the least possible time. So when she came to 
fix Florrie for the night it seemed to the lonely 
little girl that she only took about five minutes. 
Medicine given, face washed, hair brushed, bed 
smoothed, an egg beaten up with some milk, 
and a night light set where it would not shine 
in her eyes. One of the neighbours, Mrs. 
Flynn, was coming in before she went to bed, 
and Miss Manning would be around again 
bright and early in the morning. Florrie’s 
father was no help at all, though he was so 
176 


KITTY LOVE 


frightened about the child that he was behaving 
wonderfully well for the time being. 

“Now, then, you’re fixed!” said Miss Man- 
ning cheerfully, looping back the dirty, ragged 
window curtain to let in all the air possible. 
“Do you feel pretty comfortable, my dear?” 

“Yes,” said Florrie without much enthu- 
siasm. 

“Mercy, what a child!” said Miss Manning, 
but she did not speak at all unkindly. “What’s 
wrong? Pillow need to be turned again? Or 
still thirsty?” 

“N-no,” said Florrie. 

“Then >what is it?” 

“I — don’t want you to go away,” blurted 
Florrie, and looked cross as she said it, because 
she was as shy about showing sentiment as if 
she had been a boy. 

Miss Manning was quite touched. 

“Dear, dear!” she said, coming close to the 
176 


KITTY LOVE 


bed, and patting Florrie’s shoulder as she lay 
huddled under the sheet. “Well, I daresay it’s 
very lonesome at night — I’ll tell you, honey, 
I’ve a man with a broken leg a mile from here, 
and I have to go and see how he’s getting on, 
but if you like I’ll stop in here again for just a 
minute after I get through with him. How’d 
that be?” 

Florrie was such a dumb, unsocial little thing 
that she didn’t say a word, not even a word of 
thanks. But Miss Manning understood. She 
was getting used to Florrie by that time, and 
patted her again before she turned away. 

“Now go to sleep!” she said from the door, 
“and dream of the good fairies. I hope I’ll 
find you snoring when I come back!” 

She went off briskly, stopping to speak a 
cheery good-evening to Florrie’s father, who 
was smoking on the doorsteps. He was kept 
away from Florrie as much as possible, on ac- 

in 


KITTY LOVE 

count of the infection, for he had to work with 
other men in the daytime. 

Florrie lay in an uncomfortable little knot 
in the middle of the bed. She was really bet- 
ter, and she knew it, hut she still felt miserable 
enough to be sorry for herself, and she was, as 
Miss Manning had realised, dreadfully lonely. 
She was not particularly cordial to people when 
she was well, but she missed them now that she 
was ill, — ^which is very apt to be the way with 
grown-ups as well as little girls. We can’t get 
on without friends, — even if we are silly, or 
grumpy, or selfish enough to imagine that we 
can. 

Florrie fell to thinking of what the nurse 
had said just before she went out. “Dream of 
the good fairies! — ^Dream of the good fairies! — 
Dream of the good fairies !” Florrie repeated 
the words over and over to herself. They 
made her feel crosser and lonelier than ever. 

178 


KITTY LOVE 


You see she had always been horrid about fair- 
ies, poor child ! and never, even as a very little 
thing, had believed in them. And now she 
wished that she had. “I wish — I wish,” she 
muttered, half aloud, “that I wasn’t too old to 
begin to believe in ’em now!” 

The next moment she jumped nearly out of 
her skin, to say nothing of the bed, for in the 
dark square of the window she saw a pink light. 
It was a small light that moved, and might 
have been a lantern, only as I say it was the 
brightest and prettiest pink in colour, and 
seemed to be scattered with gay flowers and 
butterflies. Florrie had never seen a lantern 
like that before, and she rubbed her eyes as she 
looked at it. Then the lantern, or whatever it 
was, was set down softly by the window sill, 
and Florrie saw a pair of silver wings! — Yes, 
actually, that was what the pink light fell on, — 
two bright butterfly wings, and between them 
179 


KITTY LOVE 


a little figure — about Florrie’s own height, 
with a long white veil all over it and a shining 
crown on its head. Florrie could not see the 
face, but of course she knew immediately that 
it was a fairy. 

The fairy did not speak, but lifted an arm 
from under the white veil and waved a wand 
with some green leaves at the end of it — ^the 
pink light shone softly upon the white draper- 
ies and the silver wings. Florrie sat up in bed 
and stared, her eyes wide with wonder and joy. 
A fairy , — a fairy with a wand and silver wings 
had come to her! 

Then pat ! — something fell onto the bed. It 
was a big bunch of roses, — sweet, fresh roses, 
more beautiful than Florrie herself had ever 
seen close to her. Only the gardens of the 
quality of that region had roses like these. The 
fragrance filled the little room, and Florrie put 
out a shy finger to touch one of the beauties. 

180 


KITTY LOVE 


Then pat, pat, pat! Three or four big ripe 
peaches fell onto the bed one after the other. 
How good they looked, and poor Florrie’s fe- 
vered throat longed for them. Then came 
more flowers and more fruit till the bed was 
fragrant and beautiful, and then three delight- 
ful presents: First a small soft pillow with a 
fine linen cover ; then a charming little doll all 
nicely dressed, and last a picture book, light 
and easy to hold in bed. Then the fairy waved 
its wand again, and disappeared, leaving Flor- 
rie uncertain whether it was really a dream or 
not. But it couldn’t have been altogether a 
dream. For here was the doll in her arms, and 
here was the pillow under her head, and she 
could smell the flowers, and was wondering 
whether she dared try a peach without Miss 
Manning’s permission. And then, too, there 
was the pink lantern glowing softly on the win- 
dow sill. 


181 


KITTY LOVE 


“No,” said Florrie solemnly to the doll, “it 
was real. And you I suppose are a fairy doll !” 

When Miss Manning came in later Florrie 
was not asleep, but she looked so much happier 
and more peaceful that the nurse’s tired face 
brightened at once. 

“Aha!” she said, coming forward. “Things 
looking up a bit here.” Then she caught sight 
of the bed. “Bless me!” she exclaimed. 
“Who’s been here?” 

“A fairy!” said Florrie solemnly. Good 
Miss Manning was puzzled, but she would not 
spoil Florrie’s happy mood by a suggestion of 
doubt. She listened interestedly to the tale, 
and said: 

“What a very kind fairy!” Then she put 
the flowers in water and stood them on the win- 
dow sill, and laid the fruit on a dish on the 
shelf, and put out the candle in the Japanese 
lantern. Personally Florrie would have liked 
182 


KITTY LOVE 


it to go on burning as long as it was, but Miss 
Manning told her it would probably burn the 
house down. 

“Even a fairy lantern?” said Florrie incred- 
ulously. 

“Sure!” said Miss Manning. “Does the 
doll want to sleep with you?” 

“Of course!” said Florrie rather indignantly, 
hugging it closer. 

At Merry Vale Kitty was incoherently tell- 
ing her mother what a success it had been. 

“And oh, Mamma!” she wound up, “you 
don’t think it was wrong to deceive Florrie 
that once?” 

“No,” said Mrs, Love seriously, “I don’t. 
If I had thought it wrong I shouldn’t have let 
you do it. The reason why deception is wrong 
is because we nearly always deceive people 
from some wrong notion or unkind reason. 

183 


KITTY LOVE 


You have given Florrie a pleasure, and prob- 
ably done her good, and you can tell her all 
about it when she gets well, you know.” 

But Kitty never did. When Florrie was 
well enough, the Loves went to visit her, and 
they heard all about the fairy. And when 
Chris exclaimed, “Why, that lantern looks like 
the one Uncle Mar — ” Kitty shut him up and 
changed the subject. 

“Somehow,” she told Mamma afterward, “I 
just couldn’t tell her it hadn’t been real. Oh, 
Mummy, love, I do believe she will sort of half 
believe in fairies after this!” 


184 


THE MADNESS OF KITTY 


Take the road and hear the call ; 

Now the year is at the fall; — 

All the niierry world is moving, , 

Move ye one and all! 

Take the road and hear the cry; — 
Speeding birds are in the sky; 

Take the road and seek your fortune, 

Lest your chance go by! 

The Flitting. 


CHAPTER XI 


THE MADNESS OF KITTY 

“Oh, dear!” sighed Kitty Love. “It does 
seem sometimes as though I should die if I 
couldn’t go and be a Gipsy!” 

She said it out loud, though there was no one 
to hear her excepting Cole, who was washing 
his face in the middle of the sunlit driveway. 
Kitty was sitting on the stone steps where car- 
riages stopped; the sun was beating down on 
her uncovered head, and freckling the end of 
her small nose. Her shoes were white with 
the dust she had kicked up with impatient, scuf- 
fling feet. It seemed as though she simply 
could not keep still. Since September had 
come, and the first autumn restlessness was in 
18T 


KITTY LOVE 


the air, — ^with the birds beginning to fly South 
in big flocks black and thick against the blue 
sky, and little flecks of gold were appearing 
her^ and there in the green woods, and the rol- 
licking, blustery wind danced about every- 
where, — she had been as restless as the birds. 
Nearly everybody has the Gipsy longing once 
in a while, — even very quiet, unimaginative, 
stay-at-home persons, and Kitty was not at all 
quiet, was very imaginative, and did not care 
for staying at home except to he near people 
she loved. So it was not unnatural that she 
wanted to run off and have adventures in this 
wonderful fall season; and it would have been 
all right if she had stopped there. It is not 
naughty to want things that you cannot have; 
it only becomes naughty if you try to get 
them! 

Well, Kitty did try, and so she was 
naughty. It is dreadful to have to write it 
188 


KITTY LOVE 


about our Kitty, but I must tell you everything 
about her, bad and good. Otherwise, she 
would be just an impossible, angelic, make-be- 
lieve person, instead of a real little girl, as full 
of kind, and heedless, and sweet, and naughty 
impulses as — ^well, as you are ! 

“King Cole,” said Kitty solemnly, “I’m 
going to do something dreadful!” 

King Cole left off washing his face for a 
moment. Kitty thought he had stopped to 
listen, but it was merely in order to yawn 
widely; then he went back to his face- washing 
again without paying the slightest attention to 
the important things his mistress was saying. 

“King Cole,” said Kitty, “you are getting 
to be a grown-up cat now, and I suppose you’ll 
never want to do dreadful things any more, 
but when you were a kitten I hno'w you liked 
adventures yourself, — ’cause you were always 
running away, and getting lost!” 

189 


KITTY LOVE 


She suddenly thought of the fly-paper, and 
she added, doubtfully, — “Maybe it wasn’t al- 
ways worth while, but I’m certain sure you 
must have liked some of it, Coley, or you 
wouldn’t have kept on doing it so many times. 
Coley, I’ve never run away in all my horn 
days — The last word was said in a 
dramatic whisper, and Kitty looked hastily 
around to he sure that no one could overhear 
her. 

She was quite alone. Mamma had gone 
calling. Papa was writing in his study. Un- 
cle Mark’s visit was long since over and he had 
gone to join the children’s mysterious grand- 
parents at the seaside for the rest of the sum- 
mer. The twins were taking a nap, and Chris 
and Ned Marchmont had gone to Peter Pan’s 
Glen for an afternoon’s fishing. It was 
Becky’s afternoon off, and she had walked into 
the village to call on the general storekeeper’s 
190 


KITTY LOVE 


sister, who was an old friend of hers. Brax- 
ton was cleaning harnesses. Nurse Ann was 
as usual darning stockings upstairs. Kitty 
could hear her cracked voice humming “I’m 
wearin’ awa’, Jean,” in such a way as to make 
that dismal song a hundred times more mourn- 
ful even than it was by nature. Poor Ann! 
Perhaps it was the everlasting darning that af- 
fected her spirits. It is certain, anyway, that 
no family of children were ever so hard on their 
stockings as the Loves. 

Braxton came around the corner of the house 
with a rake, and Kitty started guiltily. 

“Oh, Braxton!” she exclaimed, “I thought 
you were cleaning harnesses !” 

“So I was, miss,” said Braxton with a cheer- 
ful grin. “But I done remember that the 
missus wanted the rose-hed weeded to-day, and 
I come down to see to it.” 

“But there won’t be any more roses till next 
191 


KITTY LOVE 

June,” said Kitty, watching him set to work 
with the rake. 

“No, miss, but we must make ready for them 
now. September is none too soon to be get- 
ting ready for Jvme!” And he grinned his 
wide, comfortable grin. 

“It seems a long time ahead,” said Kitty. 

“Eh, miss! Long, indeed. Wait till you’re 
my age and you’ll know what’s long an’ what’s 
short!” 

He nodded his head busily and raked 
away. 

“These’ll be bedded down soon,” he mut- 
tered. “They must be wrapped up warm be- 
fore the first frost.” 

In the silence that followed Kitty screwed 
herself up to the point of asking a question 
that had been trembling on her lips all day: 

“Braxton,” she said, “is — ^is it true there are 
— Gipsies round here?” 

192 


KITTY LOVE 


“True enough, miss,” replied Braxton, 
straightening himself to rest his back. “They’ve 
a big camp this side o’ the village.” 

“Oh, Braxton!” cried Kitty, clasping her 
hands. “What are Gipsies like?” 

“Like, miss?” repeated Braxton, scratching 
his head. “Why, they’re quiet, peaceable folk 
for the most part, an’ — ” 

“I mean,” said Kitty eagerly, “what do they 
look like? Are they dressed in bright-coloured 
things, with gold rings in their ears, and 
do they eat out of iron pots, and tell 
fortunes, and — ” she paused for want of 
breath. 

“More or less, miss, more or less,” said Brax- 
ton, smilingly indulgent. “They do heaps of 
them things yet, just because people expects 
it.” 

“Oh!” cried Kitty longingly, “I do wish I 
could see a Gipsy camp.” 

193 


KITTY LOVE 


Braxton shook his head, as he stooped over 
the rose-bed once more. 

“It’s nothin’ much, miss!” said he. “Just 
a few tents, an’ a bit of a fire, an’ some dirty 
people sittin’ about.” 

H'e finished his work tranquilly and went 
ofi* to the barn whistling “The Last Rose of 
Summer” a good deal off the key. 

“Yes,” said Kitty again, even more positively 
this time, “I am going to do something dread- 
ful, King Cole. I’m going — ” she took a long 
breath, and let it all out in one burst of de- 
fiance. “I’m-going-to-run-away-to-the-Gipsy 
camp-and pay-them-a- visit 1” 

A squirrel fled across the lawn with a nut 
in his teeth; a big robin flew up into the sun- 
shine; a cool little breeze blew a handful of 
russet leaves down the drive. Everything in 
the bright September world was moving, and 
busy, and full of bustle. So was Kitty! 

194 ! 


KITTY LOVE 


She got up slowly and reached for her white 
sunbonnet hanging on one of the piazza rock- 
ing chairs. 

“Good-bye, King Cole,” said she. "Maybe 
I’ll be back for supper! But Braxton says 
there are Gipsies on the road between here and 
the village, and I’ve got to see them, — ^that’s 
all!” 

She scorned to sneak away, so she walked 
boldly down the drive, her heart beating wildly 
for fear Braxton should see her from the bam, 
and call to ask where she was going. 

But no one stopped her nor bothered her, 
and she reached the dusty highroad in safety. 
It was the first time she had ever been on it 
all by herself! Just before she went out of 
sight of the house, she looked back and saw 
King Cole sitting in the drive, gazing after her. 
She waved to him, though she was afraid he 
would not take much interest in the gesture 
195 


KITTY LOVE 


of farewell, then trudged off in the sunshine 
in the direction of the village. Somewhere on 
the road she would come to the Gipsy camp! 

“Pump — pump !” behind her and an automo- 
bile snorted loudly to a standstill in the road. 

“Oh, little girl in the sunbonnet!” cried a 
lady in a brown veil. “Won’t you please reach 
one of those wonderful tiger lilies for me?” 

“Oh, of course!” exclaimed Kitty eagerly, 
and in a few moments, had brought not one 
but a dozen splendid orange and black blooms 
to the car. 

“Thank you, dear!” said the lady. “You 
have lovely eyes. What’s your name?” 

“Kitty Love.” 

“Love! — How ideally appropriate!” And 
the car snorted off. Kitty trudged along 
rather bewildered, for she did not think much 
about herself. 

Suddenly, about fifteen minutes later, she 
196 


KITTY LOVE 

heard familiar voices — her brother’s and Ned 
Marchmont’s ! She ran into the grape tangles 
beside the road and hid herself as the two boys 
came into view. They were carrying their 
fishing rods and a basket between them, and 
loudly discussing the day’s catch. 

“I say!” Ned was saying, “won’t they be 
surprised to see us home so early !” 

“We did have good luck and no mistake,” 
declared Chris. “See here, let’s sit down and 
rest. We’re a good twenty minutes from 
home.” 

They sat down by the roadside and fanned 
themselves with their hats. 

“Glory! I’m thirsty!” said Ned. “Is there 
a brook or anything near here, Chris?” 

“Sure! — a bully spring in Farmer Griff’s 
pasture just over that fence!” 

They ran across the road and disappeared. 

Kitty picked a dozen bunches of wild grapes 
197 


KITTY LOVE 


— sour, but aromatically flavoured — and laid 
them stealthily beside the basket of flsh. She 
laid some big grape leaves over the basket to 
protect the fish from the sun; and then she 
stole swiftly off down the road and around 
the bend before they returned from their 
search for water! 

She hurried a little at first, but the sun was 
warm and she soon dropped into a leisurely 
steady walk. She covered the ground quickly, 
nevertheless, and indeed, though she had no 
more adventures by the way, it seemed but a 
little while before she came around a turn to 
find herself looking at a cluster of brown and 
white tents with people moving about, and a 
delicious smell of cooking in the air. 

It was the Gipsy camp ! 


198 


THE MADNESS OF GIUSEPPE 


^‘The sun beat down upon my head, 

My thirst was very bad; 

They’d walked me till my four paws bled, 
And when I gasped and cried, they said: 
‘Look out, the dog is mad !’ 

“Oh, human people, good and sweet. 

Kind girl and gentle lad. 

When any wornout dog you meet 
With frothing jaw and shaking feet. 

Don’t say that he is mad! 

“Just drop a pat of kindly cheer 
And, if it’s to be had, 

A cup of water fresh and clear; 

He’ll prove to you, — oh, never fear,^ — 
He’s suffering, not mad!” 


The Mad Dog. 


CHAPTER XII 


THE MADNESS OF GIUSEPPE 

“Heigh! Little lady, and what may you be 
a-wanting?” 

Kitty had not realised that anyone had 
caught sight of her yet, but Gipsies have sharp 
eyes. She found herself looking up into the 
brown face of a big handsome Romany woman 
with a bright coloured kerchief folded over her 
breast, &nd — oh, joy! — ^large round ear-rings 
of yellow metal in her ears. 

“Oh, please — ” cried Kitty, so excited 
that she quite forgot to be shy, “are you a 
Gipsy?” 

The brown woman laughed. “Aye, that I 
am! Have slept under the stars since I was 
201 


KITTY LOVE 


born, and know more about herbs and weather 
than book-learning! And what may you be 
doing here, my little miss?” 

“I wanted to see the Gipsies,” said Kitty, 
“and to have my fortune told, and hear about 
their travels, and — ” 

“Are you sure,” said the woman slyly, “that 
you wouldn’t like to become a Gipsy your- 
self?” 

She smiled broadly, showing large white 
teeth like those of a healthy animal. 

“Come,” she went on, turning and leading 
the way with a stride, “sit down and have a 
cup of water after your walk. I’ll ask Mother 
Zora if she will tell your fortune.” 

“Mother Zora! What a pretty name!” said 
Kitty. “Please tell me yours.” 

“Hilda!” said the Romany woman, with 
her brilliant smile. “Here, little lady, sit you 
there on the log near another wayfarer whom 
202 


KITTY LOVE 


we’ve just made welcome, and I’ll fetch you 
water.” 

Kitty sat down obediently, and stared about 
her at the busy camp with the queerly dressed 
dark people all eyeing her so curiously. In a 
moment Hilda was back with some clear water 
in a cup made of birch bark. Kitty thought 
she had never tasted anything so refreshing, 
and of course it tasted a thousand times better 
for being drunk from birch bark, as you may 
easily imagine. 

By the smouldering fire a slim, foreign- 
looking man was sitting gnawing a big bone. 
On the grass on one side of him rested a small 
hand-organ, and on the other a weary-looking 
black spaniel with a worn red collar lay pant- 
ing. 

“Oh, are you an organ-grinder?” cried 
Kitty, much interested. “And is this your 
dog?” 


KITTY LOVE 


The organ-grinder nodded, but he would not 
stop gnawing long enough to say anything. 

“What’s his name?” persisted Kitty, stoop- 
ing to pat the dog. The organ-grinder took 
the bone from his mouth long enough to an- 
swer “Giuseppe” and then fell to gnawing 
again. 

“Isn’t that an Italian name?” asked Kitty, 
continuing to pat the dog. The poor little 
beast looked up at her with surprised brown 
eyes. He was evidently not used to patting. 
Apparently he was not sufficiently accustomed 
to happy sensations even to know how to wag 
his tail. 

“Mother Zora will see you!” cried Hilda 
from the door of one of the dirty, greyish- 
brown tents, and Kitty raced off with a beating 
heart, to think that she was actually going to 
have her fortune told by a real Gipsy crone. 

Inside the tent it was hot and stuffy and 
204 



^‘What’s his 


name 


?” persisted Kitty, stooping 
pat the dog 






» 


I 


\ 






I 




4 



< 


t 


f 


I 


t 


% 






I 

$ 










KITTY LOVE 


smelled of sweet-grass. This, she soon saw, 
came from the pile of half-finished baskets on 
which Zora had been working. 

Almost before Kitty was in the tent a voice 
out of the darkness croaked, — “Have you sil- 
ver to cover my palm, little lady?” Kitty 
stopped in dismay. She had no money with 
her, and had quite forgotten that the Gipsies 
would expect it. In her embarrassment a 
thought struck her and she unpinned a tiny 
silver brooch from the front of her dress and 
laid it in the outstretched brown palm. 

“Here is all my silver, if you please,” she 
said gently. 

The old woman examined it in the dim light. 
“True metal,” she muttered huskily. “And 
true manners to go with it!” She put the pin 
into a bag that hung at her side. 

Mother Zora was a little bit of a Gipsy 
woman, very old indeed, with a wizened dark 
206 


KITTY LOVE 


face, and bright black eyes that were both wise 
and merry. She leaned forward with her 
brown claw-like fingers grasping her two knees 
and peered sideways up into Kitty’s face, look- 
ing for all the world like a bird. 

“Hey,” said she in a shrill old voice, “so the 
little lady wants her fortune told? Very 
good! Very good! Come now, my love. 
Cut me cards will ye, and make a wish, — a 
solemn wish, a true wish, a wish for your heart’s 
desire and cross your heart!” 

Kitty nearly laughed at the funny look of 
the old crone, and the funny way she had of 
putting things, but she cut the cards obediently, 
and crossed her heart, and tried to think of 
what to wish. 

A sudden idea came to her, she wished talk- 
ing to herself under her breath. “I wish that 
Papa and Mamma may soon be friends again 
with Grandfather and Grandmother!” She 
206 


KITTY LOVE 


did not say the words out loud, but the old 
Gipsy saw her lips move and cried out. 

“Eh, have a care, my dear, have a care, but 
I hear ye! Never tell your wish! Never, 
never, never, never, never!” She shook her aged 
head vehemently and began to shuffle the cards, 
keeping up the oddest sort of low muttering 
as she did so. The cards were very old and 
dirty. They looked as though they had been 
used for fortune telling since the days of the 
Ark, or before if such a thing were possible! 

Kitty sat as quiet as a mouse and watched 
and waited. 

At last the old woman peered at her once 
more, and cried: 

“Hey there! The little miss is going to 
have a rare stroke of good luck, before the 
hands of the New Year begin to run! I see 
merrymaking ! And good cheer ! And warm 
hearts! And a welcome — and — and — does 
207 


KITTY LOVE 


any of that touch your wish, my pretty?” and 
blinked at the little girl inquiringly. 

“Why — I don’t know — ” returned Kitty 
hesitatingly. “It’s funny I can’t tell but — 
it might, of course!” 

She was still puzzling about the “welcome” 
and the “merrymaking” when a great confu- 
sion rose on the other side of the camp fire. 

The air was filled with cries and shouts and 
a high barking noise. Children ran about 
screaming, and women hurriedly pulled them 
inside the tents. Then a stone flew through 
the air, and someone shouted “Mad dog! Mad 
dog!” 

Others caught up the cry, and the whole 
camp echoed with the words repeated over and 
over again in every tone of fear and of fierce- 
ness: “Mad dog! Mad dog! Mad dog!” 

Kitty sprang to her feet startled, and saw 
Giuseppe, the organ-grinder’s little black 
208 


KITTY LOVE 


spaniel, running wildly about with his tongue 
hanging out. 

“Mad dog!” howled a Gipsy hoy, seizing a 
stick to throw. Kitty took hold of his shoul- 
der and shook him angrily. 

“Drop that stick this minute !” she cried, and 
the boy obeyed, more afraid of her than of the 
dog. When she let go of his shoulder he ran 
slinking to his mother in one of the tents. 

Kitty made her way to the centre of the 
group of gesticulating Gipsies. 

“I don’t believe he’s mad at all!” she ex- 
claimed in a clear voice. “He’s probably sick 
or thirsty! You ought to be ashamed of your- 
selves, — ^big, strong men like you afraid of a 
little dog!” 

Giuseppe was panting painfully while he 
went racing about. As he came within reach 
Kitty suddenly knelt down and caught hold 
of him. He turned in her grasp snapping 
209 


KITTY LOVE 


frantically, but she held on to him, patting his 
head as well as she could for his struggles, and 
talking to him soothingly. 

The Gipsies were so annoyed at seeing a 
little girl do what they had neither dared nor 
wanted to do, that they turned on Kitty with 
gestures and words of anger. 

“Get you off!” shouted a big Romany, shak- 
ing his fist at her. “Take the ill-conditioned 
beast and be off with you!” 

“I certaiinly will!” retorted IQtty boldly. 
“I think you are horrid, unkind people and I 
wouldn’t be a Gipsy now, for anything!’ 

Still carrying the heavy, panting dog she 
ran out of the camp-grounds and off along 
the high road in the direction of home. It 
seemed to Kitty as though she would never, 
never get to Merry Vale! If the journey to 
the Gipsy camp had seemed short, the way 
back seemed imspeakably long. She carried 
210 


KITTY LOVE 


poor Giuseppe all the way, for though he had 
ceased struggling and panting, he was evi- 
dently very weak and sick and lay in her arms 
trembling from the tip of his black nose to 
the end of his stubby tail. Kitty talked to 
him as cheerfully and encouragingly as she 
could, though her breath gave out occasionally, 
for it was hard going, and soon it began to get 
dark, and then it was not only tiring but 
frightening. Every sound by the roadside 
and every shadow made her jump and it was 
a very woe begone and weary little would-be 
adventurer who finally came in sight of dear, 
safe, comfortable Merry Vale. 

“There now, Giuseppe,” said Kitty bravely, 
patting him as she panted along. “In a few 
minutes you will have a big drink of water 
and then you will crawl into a cool, dark 
corner on a nice, soft, old blanket, and go to 
sleep, and you’ll forget thfe horrid Gipsies, 
211 


KITTY LOVE 


and the horrid organ grinder and all the horrid 
people who thought you were mad, — ^you poor, 
dear, angel doggie!” 

Mrs. Love was standing by the gate of the 
drive as Kitty came in sight. 

“Oh, my child!” she cried in a broken voice 
— “we have been so anxious! — Kitty, Kitty! — 
How could you go away like that?” 

“Oh, Mamma!” sobbed Kitty, trying to cling 
to Giuseppe and her mother at the same time, 
“I went to see the Gipsies, and to have ad- 
ventures, but it was dreadful, — and so hot — 
and they threw stones at Giuseppe and wanted 
to kiU him, and — and^ — I’m so tired. Mummy 
dear, and do please try to forgive me, for I 
never want any more adventures as long as 
I Hvel” 


S12 



THE LITTLE MUNCHAUSEN 


Baron Munchausen a boaster was he, 

(Just exactly like you and me!) 

He wasn’t a liar, 

His talent was higher. 

He liked things to sound just as good as could be! 

When he talked of what he could dare or do. 

He didn’t just mean to say what wasn’t true. 

But to give himself glory. 

He touched up the story, — 

(Just exactly like me and you!) 

The Great Munchausen, 


CHAPTER XIII 


THE LITTLE MUNCHAUSEN 

Just after the middle of the month the wild 
storm which Papa said was “the Equinoxial” 
settled down for three solid days and nights 
upon Merry Vale. The house stood in a pud- 
dle ; the driveway was a brown, gravelly river, 
the trees swayed to and fro with a rushing 
sighing wind, and the sky seemed to he push- 
ing, pushing down upon the earth like a great, 
cold, grey lid. 

At night the wind in the telephone-wires 
sang and wailed in a weird and mournful fash- 
ion, and every chimney in the house smoked 
ahominably. 

The Love family were cheerful in spite of 
215 


KITTY LOVE 


the weather and even if the children did grum- 
ble a bit about the postponement of the chest- 
nutting party for which they had been plan- 
ning so long, it wasn’t very bad grumbling. 
They were such a large and such a happy fam- 
ily that they could get on very contentedly 
even when shut up in the house for a few 
days. 

Braxton kept bringing in big armfuls of 
logs and kindling to keep the fires bright, and 
they all sat around the library hearth by the 
hour, talking, telling stories, reading aloud, 
popping corn, roasting apples on strings, play- 
ing games and otherwise passing the time very 
gaily indeed. 

It was at this time that Mamma organised 
what she called a Fable Club. It was for the 
sole purpose of story telling, and like .dS sop’s 
Fables, every story had to have some sort of 
a moral or proverb to end it. They all tried 
216 


KITTY LOVE 


their hand at it, — even the twins, though their 
stories were incoherent and they forgot the 
morals, if indeed they had ever known them! 
There is no space here to give all the “fables,” 
— but they were a great help during the long 
storm, and afforded everyone much entertain- 
ment. 

“It’s your turn to tell a story now. Papa,” 
declared Kitty, as they sat around one of the 
first fires of the season. 

Papa pretended to be very much frightened 
by the very idea, and then made a half-hearted 
attempt to escape, but the four children seized 
upon him, and made him sit down in the “story 
telling chair,” as they always called the big 
rocker where mamma usually sat when she told 
stories, and after quite a little grumbling. Papa 
said he would tell a small one! Mamma was 
sewing near the lamp, and she laughed mer- 
rily, and said: 


217 


KITTY LOVE 


“Now we’ll see if they like your stories bet- 
ter than mine!” 

“I don’t know what to tell about,” objected 
Papa, as Chris put another log on the fire. 
“Well, — all right, if I must! I’ll tell you the 
story of — of — The Little Munchausen. 

“Have you ever heard of the great Baron 
Munchausen? Of course you have! Baron 
Munchausen was a fine, swashbuckling old 
nobleman, with a great imagination, a vast 
conceit, and a keen taste for adventure. He 
delighted in telling tales of his experiences, 
and every tale was more marvellous than the 
last, and everything that he described himself 
as doing was one to make angels wonder. He 
had visited the moon! He had carried coach 
horses in his arms, — two at a time ! He had — 
But what use to enumerate the extraordinary 
and exciting things which he had done? 
Everyone knows his name to this day, and 
218 


KITTY LOVE 


when one meets a great boaster forever tell- 
ing strange stories of his doings, one says ‘Ha! 
A friend of Baron Miinchausen’s.’ 

“Now Baron Munchausen in his old age 
adopted a small boy to bring up to be almost 
as valiant and as clever as he himself had been. 
‘It would be a dreadful thing,’ he was wont 
to declare over his glass of Madeira after din- 
ner, ‘if the race of great men should die with 
me! Of course there will never be another 
Baron Munchausen, but there may be a Miin- 
chausen the Second, a Munchausen the 
younger, the weaker and the lesser in every 
way! Insignificant as he must be in compari- 
son to Me/ the Baron would say, with a wave 
of the hand, ‘he will yet be greater and braver 
and more remarkable than all other men, be- 
cause' I shall bring him up in the way he should 
go!’ 

“So the prospective Little Munchausen was 
219 


KITTY LOVE 


picked out from a very worthy family of mar- 
ket gardeners, and formally adopted by the 
celebrated Baron. 

“He wasn’t much to look at when that great 
nobleman first got him. He was little, scared- 
looking and pasty-faced and no one would have 
expected anything startling from him — ‘So 
much the better,’ said Munchausen, ‘I shall 
be able to begin at the beginning and make 
him, all by myself!’ 

“When the lad would cry, — ‘Master, that is 
a fine cabbage ; it must be nearly a foot across !’ 
— ^the Baron would exclaim: “What! is 
your eyesight so weak, so commonplace as 
that! — I tell you that it is at least six feet 
across!’ 

“And when the boy pointed out a little lark 
fluttering across the sky his master would re- 
prove him, assuring him that is an eagle, at 
the smallest! 


220 


KITTY LOVE 


“And at last he had the little fellow so well 
trained in the idea of exaggeration, that he 
fully understood that when he told about any- 
thing, he must make it just six times as large, 
and six times as remarkable, and six times as 
important as it was in reality. But the Little 
Munchausen was rather an honest youngster 
by nature, so he resolved to give his noble lord 
a lesson which would put a stop to the absurd 
teaching which he was being given. 

“So one day he came to old Munchausen 
and said very gravely, ‘Master, when I was out 
walking to-day, I met a crowd of very rude 
and disagreeable boys, who taunted me with 
your poverty!’ 

“ ‘My poverty!’ cried the Baron, nearly get- 
ting apoplexy with rage, ‘when I have ten mil- 
lion Spanish doubloons and a hundred lakhes 
of rubies!’ (He hadn’t, but no matter!) 

“ ‘Softly, Master! — Indeed I explained all 
221 . 


KITTY LOVE 


this, but they declared you a puffed up, lying, 
ridiculous old — ’ 

“ ‘I’ll have them whipped! I’ll have them 
hanged! I’ll have them racked, flayed, burned 
alive, drawn, quartered and stoned!’ roared 
Munchausen, — as if one could do so many 
things as that to one batch of boys, even if one 
wanted to. 

“ ‘Precisely, good Master, and so I told 
them. But they said that nothing would con- 
vince them except a purseful of gold and a 
ruby or two thrown in!’ 

“ ‘They shall have it; they shall see my yel- 
low gold and my priceless rubies to boot! and 
then I wiU have them racked, hanged, whipped, 
burned and — ’ 

“ ‘Where shall I find the purse. Master?’ 
asked the Little Munchausen patiently. 

“Now the poor old Baron could very ill af- 
ford a purseful of gold, and a ruby or two 
222 


KITTY LOVE 


thrown in. Indeed they came near to being 
all he had in the world. But his honour was at 
stake — ^people would think him a common 
boaster if he did not take a big stand. So he 
went down his cellar and dug out a number of 
gold coins and the only two rubies he possessed, 
and he put these in a purse and handed them 
proudly to his adopted son, who departed with 
them. 

“He was gone a long time, and when he came 
back he found the Baron pacing the floor with 
nervous exasperation. 

“ ‘Oh, Master,’ he exclaimed, ‘the boys — 
there were) six of them, — all fell upon me, and 
tried each to get possession of the valuables! 
And oh, Master, while we struggled, the 
purse fell down into a well one hundred feet 
deep!’ 

“‘What!’ gasped Baron Munchausen. 
‘And what did you db then?’ 

223 


KITTY LOVE 


“ ‘I tied the six boys together in a rope and 
let them down into the well!’ 

“ ‘Excellent!— Well?’ 

‘"‘Well, as you say, Master, — a deep well, 
a steep well! — The boy at the end got wedged 
there, and I was obliged to climb down to undo 
him. When I was once down, unwedging the 
end-boy and rescuing the pOTse, all the six boys 
climbed out one after the other, and left me 
there!’ 

‘“Left you! Then how — 

“ ‘Patience, Master! — Just as I was despair- 
ing a huge hawk flew just above the mouth 
of the well. A sudden inspiration came to me! 
I had a ball of string in my pocket, and I tied 
one of the rubies to the end of the string, then 
I threw it up as far as I might toward the 
mouth of the well. This attracted the atten- 
tion of the hawk which accordingly swooped 
upon the ruby and swallowed it, then flew away 
224 ) 


KITTY LOVE 


with the string trailing from its beak. As the 
string was unwound from my ball, I tied the 
purse to it, and that too flew upward out of 
the well!’ 

“ ‘But where is the purse now? And where 
are the rubies?’ 

“The Little Munchausen paused and then he 
said : “If I succeed in getting it for you. Mas- 
ter, will you promise to present me with five of 
the gold pieces, and give up trying to educate 
me above my station?’ 

“ ‘I will give you the five gold pieces gladly,’ 
said the Baron, ‘but is it possible you do not 
wish to be the Little Miin — ’ 

“ ‘I wish,’ said the boy, ‘to be a market gar- 
dener like my father and my grandfather be- 
fore me. I have no genius; I am sure you 
could never do anything with me! Oh, Mas- 
ter, let me go !’ 

“ ‘Very well,’ said Munchausen with a sigh, 
235 


KITTY LOVE 


‘I dare say you are right. You haven’t very 
much imagination, and that’s a fact. Be off 
with you, and catch the hawk that is flying 
about with my money and jewels! — How did 
you get out of the well, by the bye?’ he re- 
membered to ask. 

“The Little Munchausen vanished into the 
next room and returned with the fat leather 
purse. ‘Here is your purse. Master,’ he said, 
handing it over. ‘I took the liberty of count- 
ing out the gold pieces before returning 
it.’ 

“ ‘You rascal!’ gasped the Baron, ‘I believe 
it never fell into the well at all!’ 

“ ‘Oh, Master, it did indeed fall into a hole, 
but it was only a foot deep.’ 

“ ‘And the hawk?’ 

“ ‘It was a fly, dear Master, which I chased 
away.* 

“ ‘And the boys?’ 

226 


KITTY LOVE 


“ ‘There was but one, Master, and he was 
a very little one.’ 

“‘Liar!’ cried the Baron reproaxjh- 
fuUy. 

“ ‘Nay, most honoured Master,’ said the Lit- 
tle Munchausen, ‘I have simply carried out 
your teachings to the letter. You bade me 
exaggerate, — ^well, that’s what I have been 
doing.’ 

“‘And earning five gold pieces!’ said the 
Baron ruefully. At that point he looked into 
the purse. ‘What!’ he exclaimed. ‘I told you 
five gold pieces. As far as I can see, you have 
taken about fifty!’ 

“ ‘Oh, no. Master,’ protested the Little 
Munchausen, ‘only thirty. You told me that 
great minds assumed things to be six times 
more than others imagined; — to simply multi- 
ply all things by six. And thirty is six times 
five.’ 


m 


KITTY LOVE 


“The Baron sat and stared, with deep re- 
spect. 

“ ‘And you want to be a market gardener!’ 
said he. 

“ ‘Yes, Master; I find the strain is too much 
upon my imagination!’ said the Little Mun- 
chausen. 

“Moral: ‘If you’re going to lay down a 
rule, take care you are willing to stand by it!’ ” 


228 


THE FABLE OF THE MALICIOUS 
MOUSE 


Crickety, smckety, flippety, 'flop ! — 
What was that on the table top? — 

First a scratching and then a peep, 

Oh, but I want to go to sleep ! 

Scratchety, crackety, btobbledy, blop ! — 
First a scramble and then a drop^ — 

And then a nibble, and then a leap, — 

Oh, won’t it let me go to sleep? 

Snippety^ snoppety, squiggledy, wop ! — 
Won’t that horrid mouse ever stop? 

Or all night long will it nibble and creep. 
Just ’cause I want to go to sleep? 


CHAPTER XIV 


THE FABLE OF THE MALICIOUS MOUSE 

It was Mamina’s turn next. She began at 
once, to save time, as the hands of the clock 
were hurrying on. 

“There was once a simply detestable and 
wicked little mouse, whose only happiness was 
in making people wretched. He made himself 
unpopular with other mice and with the 
crickets, and black beetles, and with the old 
grey rat that studied philosophy in the cellar, 
and the sparrows that had a nest on the piazza 
roof, and the mole that occasionally came to 
walk in the geranimn border after dark, and 
all the other animal creatures that made their 
home in the same old tumbledown house that 
he did.” 


231 


KITTY LOVE 


“Wath it thith house?” Tad demanded anx- 
iously. 

“Maybe. It doesn’t matter, — and you 
mustn’t interrupt! 

“Well, he not only, as I say, made himself 
unpopular with the animals, but, when he had 
nothing else to do, he amused himself by an- 
noying the human beings who lived in the 
house.” 

“Now I know it was this house!” exclaimed 
Kitty, “and he is the mouse that kept me awake 
last night — ” 

“Don’t interrupt! When people were try- 
ing to go to sleep, he had a simply horrid way 
of walking very softly across the table and then 
taking a big header into the waste paper bas- 
ket. And when he landed in the old torn let- 
ters and papers, and made a sudden loud 
crackling noise, he would chuckle with delight. 
And when he heard the poor tired people in 
233 


KITTY LOVE 


bed sighing and tossing and grunting with 
wakefulness and irritation, he chuckled harder 
than ever, and thought it ever such a good 
joke. 

“Best of all, he liked to make them throw 
things at him! Of course people always 
throw things at mice, — ^not to hit them, but 
in the hope that they will be able to scare them 
away. A clever mouse rather enjoys the ex- 
ercise and amusement of avoiding the shoes and 
magazines and things caught up hastily in the 
dark. But our friend, the Malicious Mouse, 
got a special amount of pleasure out of it. He 
had a way of sitting down on the extreme edge 
of a newspaper, for instance, and wiggling his 
tail; and the whole paper would rustle gently. 
If it was all spread out so much the better. 
The minute he heard the person in bed sit up, 
— and mice have ears that can hear everything 
almost before it happens, you may take my 
233 


KITTY LOVE 


word for it, — ^he would whish out of reach, and 
slap! would come a bedroom slipper onto the 
paper! Then he would scamper up and sit 
in the slipper and chuckle at the person in bed 
till you could hear it quite plainly!” 

“The chuckling?” said Chris incredulously. 

“Yes. People usually thought it was some 
particularly nasty kind of rustling or nibbling. 

“Well, one of the persons in the house whose 
life the Malicious Mouse managed to make 
miserable, was an old gentleman with a love 
for collecting beautiful pieces of china and 
delicate valuable antiques. He was a gentle 
old creature, who had lived among lovely 
things so long that his soul had grown almost 
as delicate and as perfect as they, and he had 
a patience and sweetness past belief. 

“Now he was the man the Mahcious Mouse 
set himself to annoy most steadily. The 
Mouse could not bear the old gentleman’s pa- 
234 


KITTY LOVE 

tience. He hated him because he alone never 
threw things at him or gave him any fun at 
all. And just because it was so hard to make 
the good old man lose his temper that wicked 
little beast gave up all other occupations just 
to be able to spend every bit of his time at 
night in the kind collector’s room. There he 
would do all his most unpleasant tricks: — 
rustle the newspapers, and jump into the waste 
paper basket, and softly nibble the edge of the 
mantelpiece, and dance daintily up and down 
Ithe writing table; everything, in fact, that he 
could think of, — ^which is a great deal more 
than I can! 

“And still the good old collector-gentleman 
would not abuse him, nor fling books at him, 
nor do anything except sigh occasionally as if 
even his placid soul proved it a little bit try- 
ing. 

“The old gentleman’s collection of china 
236 


KITTY LOVE 


was very beautiful, and the pieces were nearly 
as valuable as if they had been jewels. There 
was rose-pink china and deep blue china, and 
delicate, strange, green china, and brown 
china, and lily-white china, and china inlaid 
with gold leaf or gleaming silver. And some 
of the vases had wonderful flowers painted on 
them, and some of the howls had exquisite little 
patterns and pictures let in under the glazing, 
— ^in a way which people cannot do nowadays, 
for it is a great, forgotten art. But of all of 
these rare and lovely pieces the old collector was 
proudest of a very ancient Chinese vase with 
red dragons chasing themselves around and 
around it. And he kept the dragon vase in 
his bedroom on a stand, so that he could look 
at it the last thing before blowing his candle 
out, and the first thing in the morning when 
the sun peered in between the window curtains. 

“The Malicious Mouse knew very well that 
236 


KITTY LOVE 


the collector loved the dragon vase the best 
of all his treasures, and a simply wicked notion 
came into his little head : He would so greatly 
aggravate the old man some night that he 
would throw something at last, and, if the 
mouse was clever enough, the poor old gentle- 
man might smash his own precious vase him- 
self! 

“This was such a delightful idea that, when 
he thought of it, the Malicious Mouse danced 
around in circles for sixteen full minutes, and 
the other mice shook their heads and said: 
‘Look how pleased he is! Somebody's going 
to get into trouble!’ 

“All that day the Malicious Mouse worked 
hard, carrying little bits of paper to a big 
hole in the corner of the old gentleman’s bed- 
room. He journeyed to the attic, and the 
cellar, and the ash barrel, and all over, and at 
last he had a big pile of rustling scraps. Then 

m. 


KITTY LOVE 

he sat down and whisked his tail and twirled 
his whiskers and waited. 

“Early in the evening the collector came up 
to bed carrying a lighted candle in an old- 
fashioned brass candlestick, 

“‘You beauty! You treasure!’ said he to 
the dragon vase, for he often talked to it as 
if it were a living pet. ‘Some day I will have 
a splendid rich house to keep you in, something 
worthy of you, my love, — instead of this dusty 
old place, filled with rats and mice !’ 

“Then he undressed, and put on a pointed 
white night cap and got into bed. And then 
he gave a last loving look at the vase, and blew 
out the candle. 

“The mouse began work at once. No 
sooner was the old man snugly settled under 
his patchwork quilt than the sly little creature 
seized a piece of paper in his teeth and scam- 
pered out into the room. Round and round 
238 


KITTY LOVE 


he dashed, making a little pattering noise very 
hard on the nerves of anyone trying to go to 
sleep. And then he ran up the legs of the 
stand and dropped the paper near the base of 
the dragon vase. And then he whisked otf 
for more. He brought, altogether, sixty-two 
pieces of paper to that table and left them 
there, and every piece that he put down rustled 
against the other. 

“ ‘There’s a mouse on my writing table where 
I left those letters!’ said the old man to him- 
self. 

“You see he was confused by the darkness 
and could not tell exactly where the rustling 
came from. Of course he thought it must be 
the writing table, for he knew that there was 
no paper at all on the dragon vase’s stand. 

“Just about then, the mouse began to prance 
about among the papers, making the most 
dreadful scrabbling noise, and, as it had now 
239 


KITTY LOVE 


gone on for about an hour, the old man lost 
his wonderful patience at last. Reaching out 
in the dark he seized the candle-stick on the 
little table beside his bed and threw it across 
the room in the direction of the scratching and 
rustling. And then — ^there was a crash! And 
the Malicious Mouse galloped away squealing 
loudly with glee at the success of his plot. 

“The poor old collector had a dreadful qualm 
of terror and went feeling about with trem- 
bling hands, till he found a match and lighted 
it. 

“Alas! It was just as he had feared! His 
beloved vase with the red dragons, the pride 
of his collection, lay in pieces upon the floor! 

“He gathered them up carefully, with many 
lamentations, and to himself he sighed: ‘How 
could I have done such a dreadful thing? I’m 
sure it’s a judgment on quick temper!’ 

“ ‘Quick!’ chuckled the mouse from his hole, 
240 


KITTY LOVE 


as he watched him with bad little beady eyes, 
‘why, you old dimce, it’s taken you eight 
months to lose your temper! I had pretty 
nearly given up hope 1’ And he ran up inside 
the wall to have supper, — a delicious one, by 
the bye, of some cheese which he had stolen 
from a trap, a bit of dried herring, and a half 
inch of bacon-rind, which— as anyone knows 
who has read Hans Christian Anderson — ^is the 
most popular of all tidbits for the mice people! 

“Well, our friend the collector was not old 
and wise for nothing. He examined the bits 
of paper on the stand, half-nibbled about the 
edges, and he saw clearly enough that some 
mouse had been putting up a practical joke 
upon him. So, as he was feeling very badly 
about the vase, he decided that he would pay 
the mouse back. 

“First he got out a bottle of wonderful 
cement and stuck the pieces of the vase together 
241 


KITTY LOVE 


securely; all except one piece at the side. 
That he did not stick but laid in lightly so that 
it would fall out at a touch. Then he tied a 
bag over the mouth of the vase tight, and then 
he laid the whole vase on its sides on his writ- 
ing-table, so that the httle loose piece of china 
came on the upper side. And on the loose 
piece he very gently laid a delicious, savory 
strip of fat bacon, — ^no mouse in the world 
could resist the smell of it ! 

“Then it was his turn to sit down and wait. 
He had put the light out, and pretended to 
get into bed, though he was really only sitting 
on the edge of it. 

“In a few minutes along came the Malicious 
Mouse. Of course he could see in the dark, 
and when he saw the vase that the old man had 
so carefully glued together, he squeaked with 
laughter. He didn’t notice the bag tied over 
the mouth of it! 


24i2 


KITTY LOVE 


“‘Well, well! Poor old goose!’ said he, 
curling his whiskers. ‘He has been trying to 
mend the thing! — Maybe I can make him 
smash it all over again !’ 

“He ran up over the vase and just then he 
smelled the bacon. 

“ ‘Oh, my fur and whiskers !’ he exclaimed, — 
quoting Alice’s White Rabbit, — ‘But that 
smells good!’ 

“With that he bounced full onto the piece 
of bacon, and of course the loose piece gave 
way, and down he went into the vase! 

“ ‘Let me out !’ he squealed, running about 
inside; but of course he couldn’t get out, and in 
a minute the old collector was peering down at 
him through the hole by the light of the candle. 

“ ‘I’ve got you, you wicked creature!’ said 
the collector. 

“‘Let me out!’ pleaded the mouse, almost 
crying. 


KITTY LOVE 


“ ‘Are you sorry you smashed my vase?’ said 
the collector, who was a highly educated old 
gentleman and could talk the mouse language. 

“ ‘I like that! — ^You smashed your old vase 
yourself!’ 

“ ‘Well, are you sorry, anyway?’ asked the 
collector. 

“ ‘Yes!’ grunted the Malicious Mouse. ‘I 
certainly am. So would you be if you were 
shut up in a vase! — And the sticky stuff you 
used to mend it smells horrid too . . . !’” 

The clock struck nine, and Mamma stopped 
short. 

“Mercy!” she exclaimed. “I’d no idea it 
was so late. — Run away to bed, all of you!” 

“Oh, Mamma,” cried Kitty reproachfully. 
“You might tell us what the old man did with 
the Mouse !” 

“The Mouse,” said Mrs. Love, “promised 
solemnly to reform and the old man — ” 


KITTY LOVE 


“Let him go?” asked Chris, rather disap- 
pointed. 

“No, he took him as a servant, and taught 
him how to dust china and keep the candle 
trimmed. The Mouse stopped being malicious 
and became a shining light of virtue and meek- 
ness.” 

“And what’s the moral of that?’^ asked papa 
from his corner. 

Mamma laughed. “The moral,” she re- 
peated. “I think the moral must be: Tf you 
sit up late at night, you are sure to get into 
trouble!’ — Good night, my babies all!” 


M5 


ROBBERS ! 


I think that only pleasant things 
Will happen while I see, 

But when the night its darkness brings, 
Why , — cmything could be! 

The owlets hoot. 

The black cats scoot 
Like shadows in a dream; 

And Pixies wee 
Come stealthily 
To steal the morning cream! 

The Kobolds glare 
From out the flare 
That flickers ’round the pot; 

The lamp burns blue. 

And demons too 
Are there as like as not! 

Now in the day quite brave am I, 

But in the night-time’s shade 
When anything could happen, — why 
I’m awfully afraid!!! 


Night Fancies, 


CHAPTER XV 


ROBBEKS! 

The children were so carried away by the 
last meeting of the “Fable Club” that they 
could not seem to get out of the mood, and 
tried to get Nurse Ann to tell them still another 
story, after they had gone upstairs to bed. But 
she was very stern and as fari from an intention 
to tell stories as one could well be. The wet 
weather made her rheumatic, and, in conse- 
quence, even growlier and more severe than 
usual. 

The three nursery chimneys were smoking 
particularly badly that evening, so Ann had 
only built small fires in each, and scurried the 
children through their undressing, so they 
wouldn’t get cold. Yes, — ^three nursery chim- 
249 


KITTY LOVE 


neys! You see the twins had one room, and 
Chris another, and Kitty slept with Nurse. 
Chris’s room was the day nursery and play- 
room, and all three rooms opened into each 
other, and all three had open fireplaces — once 
three open fireplaces smoked. 

“What a lovely night J” exclaimed Kitty, 
with a pleasurable shiver as she jumped into 
bed and snuggled over under the big blue quilt. 

“Lovely!” grumbled Nurse Ann, trying to 
pick up the smouldering logs so that they 
wouldn’t smoke so much. “Lovely, is it, in- 
deed? With six inches of rain outside, and a 
raw wind that would turn ye inside out! — Mas- 
ter Christopher, I can see ye in there through 
the door! Now don’t go hoppin’ about like 
that ! Get into bed this instant, or ye’ll get yer 
death! — The pixies take this candle! — It near 
blows out every breath of air that comes nigh 
it!” 


250 


KITTY LOVE 


“Do you believe in pixies. Nurse?” asked 
Kitty, with the bed clothes pulled up over her 
chin, and nothing but the end of her nose stick- 
ing out. 

“Maybe I do, an’ maybe I don’t!” muttered 
Ann, looking sour and not at all sympathetic, 
polishing off Tad’s little shoes with a vigorous 
palm. “I’ll tell ye this: — ^whatever of bad 
there is, pixies or mankind, will be abroad a 
night like this here!” 

“Robbers?” suggested Chris, from the next 
room. He had at last ducked into bed, with 
some smothered grunts over the chilliness of 
the sheets. “Robbers, Nurse?” 

“Aye, — ^robbers, or bogies, or such like! — 
Take care ye don’t stay awake long enough to 
catch sight of any of ’em! — Good-night to ye!” 

She went off with the old china candlestick 
they knew so well, visiting each bedside in turn 
to be sure that everyone was tucked up, and 
251 


KITTY LOVE 


had plenty of coverings, and that the windows 
were all open. 

“Good-night to ye,” she said again, not un- 
kindly, and they saw her light flicker down the 
hall through the crack of the door, for the nur- 
sery doors were left ajar till she came to bed 
later. The wind and rain made such an up- 
roar that neither Kitty nor Christopher could 
go to sleep immediately. They each felt ex- 
cited and wide awake, and each, if they could 
have known it, — ^was wishing they dared go in 
and sit on the other’s bed for a chat. Only 
they were such good children that they were 
afraid of disturbing one another. 

After a little while Mamma came in softly 
and leaned over Kitty. 

“Asleep and dreaming, little daughter?” she 
asked in her gentle whisper. 

“Oh, no. Mamma ! N ot asleep, — ^but dream- 
ing a little!” 


252 


KITTY LOVE 


“What about?” laughed Mamma. 

“Robbers!” 

“What an exciting subject to dream 
about! Try something more peaceful — bke 
sheep!” 

She kissed Kitty softly, and went in to Chris. 
He was sitting up in bed. 

“Didn’t I hear Kitty talking about rob- 
bers?” he demanded. 

“She said she was dreaming about them. — 
Lie down, my dear. It’s cold in here. There! 
I’ll tuck up the small of your back where the 
wind always gets. — Go to sleep. Listen to 
that rain! — Good-night, son!” 

In a minute she was gone. Kitty must have 
dozed off after all, for she did not hear Nurse 
come to bed, and only woke when it was quite 
dark. She didn’t know what had awakened 
her, but she heard a startled voice near her 
say — 


253 


KITTY LOVE 


“The Lord bless an’ save us — what was 
that?” 

Kitty sat up, and heard Nurse Ann fum- 
bling about on the little table between the beds 
for matches. For a minute Kitty was con- 
fused and half asleep, and, thinking of the Ma- 
licious Mouse Fable, she said, — 

“Did you smash the vase?” 

“Vase, is it?” said Nurse Ann, finally getting 
the candle lighted and climbing stiffly out of 
bed. “ ’Twas more nor a vase I’m thinkin’ 
made yon noise below!” 

“What noise?” asked Kitty, bewildered. 
And just then Chris scurried in slowly, sleepy, 
but much excited, to exclaim : “I say. Kit, did 
you hear it? It’s robbers this time, and no 
mistake; and I’ll tell you — ” he lowered his 
voice mysteriously, “they’re stealing the silver, 
that’s what they’re doing!” 

“Put on something. Master Chris,” said 
£54 


KITTY LOVE 


Nurse sternly. She was already wrapped in 
her own old dressing-gown of grey sprinkled 
with yellow spots, and making for the door. 
The children were relieved and grateful to no- 
tice that she did not tell them to stay in bed! 

Hastily and softly Kitty jumped up and 
put on her pink bath-robe, while Chris hunted 
up his blue one, and then, too excited to feel 
cold, they tiptoed out into the hall. 

People were moving about and speaking in 
low voices, and a sound of steps sounded on the 
stairs. Mamma, looking lovely in a fluffy 
thing of pale lavender and lace with a sort of 
fur cloak pulled on over that, passed them 
looking puzzled and anxious. Her hair was 
hanging down her back in two blond braids, 
and she looked nearly as young as Kitty her- 
self. 

“Oh, Mummy,” cried Chris, under his breath, 
“is it robbers?” 


265 


KITTY LOVE 

Mrs. Love turned with a startled look. 

“Oh, darlings, do run in and keep warm, will 
you?” she pleaded, — ^but the children did not 
consider it a real command. As she hurried on 
down the stairs they seized hands and followed 
her, stepping very lightly and exchanging 
glances of delightful apprehension. Is any- 
thing in this world so thrilling as a night alarm? 
It was the first in Christopher’s and Kitty’s 
lives, and they felt as though they were living 
in a book of adventure! 

Downstairs everything was in confusion. 
Mr. Love, with a candle in one hand and a re- 
volver in the other, was examining the side- 
board in the dining-room. 

“It certainly sounded like the crash of sil- 
ver,” he said. “If all the stuff did not seem 
to be safe here I should certainly feel sure that 
some burglar had filled his bag and dropped it 
just as he was starting to escape.” 

256 


KITTY LOVE 


“Perhaps,” said Mamma tremulously, “one 
of the pictures or mirrors fell in the library.” 

“Or the wind blew a window in,” suggested 
Ann gloomily. 

“Or a pipe burst,” added Becky, who looked', 
by-the-bye, too queer for words, with a red 
cotton handkerchief tied over her head and 
under her chin as a precaution against the 
toothache. And suddenly Kitty darted for- 
ward to the sideboard. 

“Where’s the silver water pitcher?” she ex- 
claimed. “Mamma! Papa! Somebody’s 
taken the silver water pitcher!” 

It was quite true. There was not a sign of 
the pitcher, which was very large and very 
heavy, and, one would imagine, the last thing 
a burglar would pick out to carry with 
him. 

Well, they didn’t know what to make of it. 
They just stood and stared at each other, and 


KITTY LOVE 


offered absurd explanations and suggestions in 
a half-hearted way. 

It was, oddly enough, Chris who said: “If 
that pitcher fell down — ” 

“It couldn’t fall down,” put in Kitty. 

“Well, if it was dropped down, or thrown 
down, or whatever happened to it,” said Chris- 
topher rather impatiently, “I’ll bet it’s on the 
floor now. And I’m going to hunt!” 

“Oh, my dear!” cried his mother nervously; 
perhaps she had visions of a very clever bur- 
glar hiding under the dining-room chairs, — 
they had already looked under the table. But 
Chris had already plumped down on his hand's 
and knees and was peering behind the side- 
board. 

“You look like a dog,” said Kitty, giggling, 
“a light blue dog; — oh, where is Giuseppe?” 

“Here,” answered Giuseppe plainly, with a 
little soft “wuff,” nuzzling her hand. His 
258 


KITTY LOVE 


silky black ears were very much cocked, and he 
seemed vastly interested in what was happen- 
ing, though quite at sea as to the cause of the 
disturbance. 

And then, quite suddenly, his ears went up 
higher and more excitedly than ever, and he 
“wuffed” again louder and more emphatically, 
— ^looked up at Kitty, wagged his black stump 
of a tail, and peered intently into the dark 
space beyond the hanging edge of the table 
cloth. 

“He sees something under the table!” ex- 
claimed Mamma. 

“Yes!” barked Giuseppe eagerly. 

Kitty patted him. 

“What is it, Giuseppe?” she asked. 

And with this Giuseppe made a dash under 
the table, and then reached out again, wagging 
and barking violently. 

“What on earth — ” said Papa, stooping and 
259 


KITTY LOVE 


scratching a match. He followed Giuseppe’s 
excited dashes, and then began to chuckle. 

“Well, if that isn’t the limit!” said Papa. 

The silver pitcher had rolled under the table, 
and the reason why they had not seen its gleam 
before was because the “robber” who had 
knocked it off the sideboard, was carefully and 
slyly sitting in front of it, hiding it from the 
light. 

Of course, you have guessed without my tell- 
ing you that the “guilty party” was King Cole! 

“Did you ever see such a wonderful cat?” 
exclaimed Kitty proudly. 


260 


THE OLD COUPLE AT THE 
GRANGE 


Living is such splendid fun, 

Every golden day begun 
Brings new joys about! 

Sometimes, in a fairy book 
You are dying for one look 
At how it all comes out ; 

But if you’re wise you do not peep. 

But let the sweet excitement keep 
The story-teller wrought you ; 

So too, in living, patient be; 

Just wait, my dear, and you will see 
What some fine morn has brought you ! 

Rewards, 


CHAPTER XVI 


THE OLD COUPLE AT THE GRANGE 

One day Uncle Mark came into the nursery 
with a funny sort of look, half excited and half 
mysterious, yet as though he did not care to 
seem either. He was smoking a cigarette and 
he leaned against the table and put his hands in 
his pockets and looked at Kitty for a whole 
minute without saying a word. 

“Why, Uncle Mark,” she exclaimed, getting 
a little uncomfortable, “what is it? Is my 
hair-ribbon coming off? Or have I a smudge 
on my nose?” She rubbed it anxiously. 

Kitty liked to draw, and was always getting 
lead-pencil smooches all over herself. But 
Uncle Mark shook his head. 

S63 


KITTY LOVE 


“No,” he said thoughtfully, still staring at 
her. “N o, there’s nothing the matter with you. 
In fact, you’re just right.” 

“Just right for what?“ demanded Kitty, for 
she knew very well that her uncle didn’t mean 
she was perfect. 

“For a little adventure which I think — ^mind, 
I only say think — ^we’re going to have to- 
gether.” 

“An adventure!” Kitty clapped her hands. 
“Oh, what is it?” 

Uncle Mark took his hands out of his pock- 
ets, and suddenly seemed to wake up. 

“Kitty Love,” said he, “there’s an old couple 
moved into the old Grange between here and 
the Marchmonts’. They’re lonely old souls, 
and the old gentleman is not well. How would 
you like to go to see them, and take them some 
flowers?” 

“Why, of course I should like to. Uncle 
264 


KITTY LOVE 


Mark,” said Kitty at once, feeling a little puz- 
zled. “But where is the adventure part of it?” 

“Ah!” said Uncle Mark mysteriously, “the 
adventure part of it will come later. Get your 
hat and cape, and come along — oh, by-the- 
bye,” he added carelessly, “don’t speak to your 
father and mother about it.” 

“Oh, Uncle Mark! Is it a secret?” 

“N-no, — ^not exactly. It’s a surprise.” 

“A secret from Mamma?” 

“Just now!” pleaded Unele Mark. “Hon- 
est Injun, Kitty, I wouldn’t ask you to do 
something that your mother wouldn’t like.” 

“Of course not. Uncle Mark.” — ^But still 
Kitty hesitated. 

“All right. I’ll agree that you shall tell 
your mother all about it the minute you come 
home — if you still want to. Will that do?” 

“Oh, yes, that will do beautifully.” And 
Kitty flew with joyful heart to get down her 
265 


KITTY LOVE 


shade hat and the little blue cape she wore 
when the days were chiUy. 

It was a simply delicious Autumn morning, 
with just enough crisp freshness in the air to 
set the blood tingling and the heart dancing. 
Everything seemed to sparkle as if the httle 
weather-sprites had spent the night polishing 
and brushing and cleaning the world and bur- 
nishing it up generally. 

“Going for a walk?” called Mamma from 
the library where she was dusting books. 

“Yes, Mamma!” 

And “Yes, Katherine!” called the two. 

Kitty cast a slightly wistful glance through 
the library door as she passed. As a rule she 
adored helping her mother arrange the books. 
They always stopped every few minutes to look 
at some illustration, or to read a tiny bit, and 
Mrs. Love would tell delightful stories about 
the contents of the old volumes. 

266 


KITTY LOVE 

But Uncle Mark hurried her out of the 
house before she could change her mind about 
the visit. 

First they stopped and picked a bouquet of 
such late flowers as yet lingered in the garden. 

“There’s nothing really very nice left,” Kitty 
complained. “Still, I do love late flowers, don’t 
you. Uncle Mark?” 

He smiled. “I do,” he said, “and I also 
love you, Kitty.” 

Kitty flushed up happily. Uncle Mark was 
hardly ever seriously affectionate, and when he 
showed her any real tenderness she always felt 
greatly touched and pleased. The walk to the 
Grange was a very pleasant one. They talked 
like good comrades, and it seemed soon over. 

“Here we are!” said Uncle Mark, as they 
came in sight of the old white house with its 
colonial pillars in front, and its box hedges and 
elms all about. 


267 


KITTY LOVE 


They went up the stiff path and on the 
piazza they were met by an old lady. She was 
a little old lady, with smoothly parted silver 
hair and a very sweet face, — ^rather sad, too, 
Kitty- thought. She wore an old-fashioned 
silver-grey silk dress very puffed out as to 
skirt, with collar and cuffs of very delicate lace 
which had grown a little yellow with time. At 
her throat was a round cameo brooch like an 
old one Mamma had in her jewel-box. And 
she wore a number of quaint, handsome rings, 
with curious settings and the gold worn very 
thin. 

When she saw Uncle Mark and Kitty she 
gave a little soft “oh!” as though she was star- 
tled, and her wrinkled cheeks flushed faintly. 
She seemed to be rather nervous and doubtful 
of what to say, and Kitty decided that she must 
he shy. She felt sorry for her, for she herself 
suffered from shyness, so she went forward at 
268 


KITTY LOVE 


once and offered the little bouquet, saying very 
prettily indeed: “Uncle Mark thought you 
might like these. I’m so sorry that all the 
really nice flowers are over.” 

“Thank you,” said the little old lady in rather 
a tremulous tone. Kitty looked up at her — 
and she didn’t have to look so very far! — and 
saw that her eyes were full of tears. What a 
very nervous old lady she appeared, to be sure ! 

“Where is — ” began Uncle Mark, and then 
seemed to check himself. The old lady evi- 
dently understood whom he meant. 

“On the other side of the piazza where there 
is more sun. He feels the need so, you know, 
after Roselands.” 

Kitty noticed that she spoke in a curious and 
yet pretty way; rather as Mamma sometimes 
did, and Uncle Mark, too, when they were very 
much excited about something. She couldn’t 
tell just what it was that made this way of 
269 


KITTY LOVE 


speaking different from that of other people, 
but later on she learned that it was the South- 
ern accent. 

“Will you — ^will you come and see him?” 
asked the old lady in a rather hesitating 
way. 

Then they all three walked around the cor- 
ner of the house to a sheltered side-piazza. 
And there in the sun sat an old, old, old man, 
muffled up in blankets. He looked a thousand 
years old, Kitty thought, and very thin and 
white, but his eyes were very bright and not 
particularly pleasant. He looked toward them 
with a sort of grunt as they appeared. 

“My dear,” said the lady gently, “here is 
Mark and — and the little girl.” 

“Mph!” grunted the old man in the blankets 
again. “The little girl, eh?” — He scowled and 
peered like a bad-tempered old gnome, 
“What’s your name?” he demanded harshly. 

270 


KITTY LOVE 


“Kitty Love,” said she politely, “and I hope 
you are feeling better.” 

“It’s a foolish name,” returned the old gen- 
tleman, “and I don’t feel better; I feel worse. 
I feel a good deal worse !” 

He wriggled and flounced about like a rest- 
less child, and two blankets fell off. Uncle 
Mark picked them up, but the invalid cried out 
crossly, "You won’t be able to fix them! 
Where’s Pike? I want Pike. He’s the only 
one who knows how to make me comfortable.” 

Kitty saw Uncle Mark frown and press his 
lips together at the name. But he went at 
once to one of the French windows and called: 
“Pike! You’re wanted.” 

Immediately as though he had been wait- 
ing for the summons a man came out onto the 
piazza. He was evidently a servant — middle- 
aged and respectable looking. With a pale 
face and cold eyes — ^he looked as though he had 
271 


KITTY LOVE 


not one single feeling in his body or his heart, 
and Kitty disliked him at once, but he picked 
up his master’s things with great tenderness 
and care, and said in a low, respectful voice, — 
“Will you have your eggnog, sir?” 

The old gentleman grunted something. No 
one but Pike could have understood whether he 
said “yes” or “no,” but Pike bowed and said, 
“Very good, sir.” Then he went with a soft 
step back to the long window through which he 
had come. At the threshold he turned. 

“Will you have any refreshment, Mr. 
Mark?” he asked. 

“No, thanks. Pike.” 

The man looked at Kitty. She thought a 
little flicker of interest showed in his face. 
“And the young lady?” he said. “Would 
she take a glass of milk, or a cup of choco- 
late?” 

“No, thank you,” said Kitty politely. 

The man looked almost disappointed. 

272 


KITTY LOVE 

“Very good, miss,” he said; then he bowed 
and vanished. 

“Brr!” said Uncle Mark. “That fellow 
gives me the creeps. How you can have him 
around all the time! — ” 

“Oh, I’m sure,” said the old lady nervously, 
“he’s a very good servant, and faithful.” 

"Z wouldn’t trust him around the corner,” 
said Uncle Mark curtly. 

Now all this time Kitty had been coming to 
a conclusion. At first it was but a wild idea — 
then it became a definite thought — and now 
she felt absolutely certain. She looked from 
the old gentleman to the old lady and then she 
looked at Uncle Mark, and suddenly she 
clasped her hands and took a step forward. 

“Oh, please — ” she exclaimed in a trembling 
voice, “aren’t you my Grandfather and Grand- 
mother?” 

And the next moment she was caught in her 
grandmother’s arms. 

273 




KITTY DOES IT I 


A journey ends with loving friends to meet you, 
Atnd something nice occurs where’er you go ; 
The very gladdest things turn up to greet you, 
And if you’ll only wait, you’ll find it’s so ! 

They lie around and soon or late they’ll find you. 
You mustn’t feel they’ve once forgotten you. 
For nothing is impossible — ^now mind you ! — 

And every single dream can once come true ! 

Faith. 


CHAPTER XVII 

KITTY DOES IT! 

Kitty did not tell Mamma as soon as she 
got back. Indeed, she felt quite justified in 
keeping it a secret for yet a little longer. She 
was as anxious as Uncle Mark to bring about 
a general “kiss-and-make-things-up,” but 
somehow, since she had seen her grandfather 
she felt more than ever that some sort of clear- 
ing up would have to come before complete 
forgiveness on both sides. “And I guess,” 
thought Kitty seriously, “that Fll have to do 
it.” 

Oddly enough, though she did not like Pike 
the man servant, Kitty felt that he was the 
person who could help her to straighten out the 
tangle. 


m 


KITTY LOVE 


She walked over to the Grange a week later 
during the afternoon hour when she knew that 
both “the grandpeople” would be taking their 
after-luncheon naps, and hunted up Pike for a 
comfortable chat. 

He was sorting papers in the library, and 
his pale, cold face lit up with a surprisingly 
pleasant look when he saw her. 

“Sit down, miss,” he urged. “You’ll not be 
expecting to see your grandparents.” 

“Oh, no,” said Kitty cheerfully, laying down 
the bouquet. “I thought I’d leave these, that’s 
all. Oh, Pike, I’m so dull! Tell me a story!” 
She spoke pleadingly. 

Pike began to tear up a letter and went on 
tearing as if he did not entirely know what he 
was doing; tearing, tearing, into smaller and 
yet smaller bits . . . some little white 

scraps of paper fluttered to the floor like flakes 
of snow. After there was nothing left to tear 
278 


KITTY LOVE 


he went through the motions of tearing, as 
though his long, yellow fingers moved mechan- 
ically. 

“You like fairy tales?” he said. 

“Oh, rather!” said Kitty, hfting herself up 
by her two hands to sit on the edge of the table. 
“Do you know any fairy tales. Pike?” 

“No, miss, — not to say know any,” said the 
man doubtfully, “but I — I should hke to tell 
you one just the same.” 

“Not know any, — ^but can tell one! How 
funny! Do go ahead. Pike!” and she settled 
herself attentively to listen. 

“It is one which I — ^have merely lived, miss!” 
said Pike respectfully. He was silent a mo- 
ment, then he began. 

“Once, miss, there was a — a — what is a very 
bad sort of fairy, miss?” 

Kitty thought. 

“A — Troll?” she suggested. 

279 


KITTY LOVE 


“Yes, miss, maybe! I don’t know, I’m sure. 
Once there was a Troll who acted very wick- 
edly, but — whose heart was not bad, — ^no, in- 
deed not!” He paused. 

“Yes?” said Kitty sympathetically. 

“Yes, miss. — The Troll was in debt.” 

“In debt!” cried Kitty, much interested and 
surprised. “I didn’t know Trolls were ever in 
debt.” 

“I dare say, miss,” said Pike precisely, “that 
they might not be as a rule. This Troll now 
was, as you might say, in trouble. He had a 
mother — ” 

“A mother Troll!” 

“Why — er — ^yes, miss, I suppose so,” said 
Pike uncomfortably. “Anyway, there was a 
mortgage, and so on, and the Troll needed 
money horribly ... he needed money.” 
Pike corrected himself primly; but his lips 
twisted a little. 


280 


KITTY LOVE 


“Poor Troll!” 

“Yes, miss. — He didn’t know what to do, 
the Troll didn’t. And he — ^he knew of a spell 
which belonged to a Wizard he knew. It — it 
was a very fine spell,” said Pike, coughing 
slightly. “The Troll knew that it would bring 
him all the money he needed if he could only 
get hold of it — the spell — for a little while.” 

“Yes? Do go on.” 

“Well, miss, there was a magic charm to be 
said before you could get the paper that had 
the spell written on it. And there were three 
people that knew the charm. The Wizard — ” 
Pike spoke slowly, as though he were consid- 
ering each word, — “and the Troll, and — a 
Fairy Prince who was — ^who was married to 
the Wizard’s daughter. So the Troll said the 
charm, and stole the paper that had the spell, 
and — ” 

“Stole, Pike!” 

281 


KITTY LOVE 


“Yes, miss. He—” 

Suddenly Pike stopped, and hunted for the 
letter which he had torn up long since. Not 
finding it he sat heavily staring straight in 
front of him. 

“Well, then,” said Kitty, in a wondering 
whisper, “after he had — stolen — it, how did he 
keep his Wizard from pimishing him?” 

“He let him think,” said Pike, speaking as 
though he were in a sort of dream, “he let the 
Wizard think, miss, that the Fairy Prince had 
done it!” 

“I see,” said Kitty, still staring at him. 
“And — and — ^then what happened?” 

“The Troll,” said Pike, rather shakily, and 
Kitty saw that the knuckles of his yellow hands 
were very white as he clenched his fists, — “the 
Troll suffered for it all his life long — ^until — 
until — ” 

He moved his head as if he couldn’t go on. 


KITTY LOVE 


“Pike,” said Kitty suddenly, “I wonder — ” 
she stopped short and stared at him. Her 
pulse was poimding, all her blood seemed pour- 
ing into her head. An idea had come to her,— 
such a strange, exciting, dreadful, impossible 
idea! — “Pike!” she said again, tremblingly, 
“that fairy story . . . you . . . Pike!” 

said Kitty, the third time, and she jumped off 
the table to him across the room and looked at 
him intently. “Were you the Troll in the 
Fairy Story? And did you steal the money 
from Grandfather and let him think it was 
Prince Charming? — I mean — ” 

“Your Papa,” finished Pike quietly. He 
was very pale, but just as respectful as ever. 
“Yes, miss . . . I — I was the Troll in the 

Fairy Story, miss!” . . . 

Mrs. Love was sitting in the library by the 
open fire wondering where Kitty was, and feel- 
ing just a wee bit lonely, when a hurricane of 
283 


KITTY LOVE 

flying steps approached over the veranda and 
down the hall. 

In another moment Batty herself fell into 
her arms. 

“Oh, Mamma — darling,” she gasped — “it 
was a secret, but now it isn’t! It’s all right. 
Grandfather and Grandmother are at the 
Grange and they want to see you, dearest ; and 
Pike forged the check and let Papa he blamed! 
Only you mustn’t do anything to him for it, be- 
cause he told me himself!” 

Well, it was all right after that, as you may 
imagine it would he, and “the grandpeople” 
were so pathetically happy to have their daugh- 
ter back again! And Mamma was so happy! 
And Papa was so happy! And everyone was 
so happy, — dear, dear! — There never, never 
was such a happy time — and even Pike was 
forgiven! 

Of course Kitty did that; — somehow she 
S84 


KITTY LOVE 

couldn’t let Mm be left entirely out of the fam- 
ily joy. So, though he would humbly have ac- 
cepted any punishment they decided upon for 
him, she persuaded them to let him go on tak- 
ing care of Grandfather Alden, whom he 
loved, and who needed him, and trying to prove 
his real penitence. 

And of course “the grandpeople” wanted 
them all to go South with them for the winter. 

“Well,” said Chris jokingly, “I suppose you 
‘love" the idea of going to Roselands, too. 
Kit?” 

“Yes,” she said softly. “I love the idea of 
Roselands, and I love the grandpeople — ” 

“And Pike?” put in Chris slyly. 

“Ye-es , — sort of, because he was honest at 
the end, you know! — 'and' — and — I guess I just 
love being alive!"" said Kitty Love happily, 
with her face lifted toward the bright Autumn 
sun. 


285 


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